In Sickness
by Pokeyshadow
Summary: After a life threatening diagnosis Neal must undergo a harsh medical procedure.
1. Chapter 1

Neal slammed the phone down and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Neal, what did the doctor say?" The ex-con looked at his friend and then shook his head in disbelief. "He won't tell me over the phone. I have an appointment tomorrow and he told me not to come alone."

Mozzie hissed. "That doesn't sound good" he quietly remarked.

Neal lowered his head into his hands and took a couple of deep calming breaths.

"Are you going to tell the suit?"

"Tell him what?" Neal countered, a little too harshly. "It's not like I know anything yet."

"Does he know you went to a doctor?" Mozzie asked evenly, placing his wine glass on the counter.

"No." Neal shrugged. "He knows I haven't been feeling well but he assumed it was because of Ellen's death."

"I think you need to tell him."

Neal glanced up. "You don't want to go with me, do you?"

Mozzie looked away.

"Fine, I'll go by myself." Neal stood and stared out the window.

"Neal, tell Peter or I will." Mozzie neared his friend. "I'm good at a lot of things but this..." he held his hands outward. "This I'm not. Sorry."

"You think it's bad?"

"I don't know. Call Peter."

"No..."

"Neal!"

"Not over the phone" Neal continued. He grabbed his coat and hat.

"Neal, you'll call me tomorrow?"

"Yeah" Neal mumbled as he walked out.

* * *

"Neal, what are you doing here?" Peter asked, surprised to see his partner at his front door. "Do you want to come in?" Peter stepped aside and allowed Neal room to enter.

"Neal?" Peter prompted as the younger man remained silent. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know" Neal answered so quietly that Peter barely heard. But his body language spoke volumes as Peter guided him towards the sofa.

"Sit before you fall." Peter gently pushed him down. "Now tell me what's wrong." Peter grabbed a chair and sat.

"I'm not sure" Neal admitted as he refused to make eye contact.

"Neal, stop beating around the bush and talk to me." Peters' tone was commanding but gentle as he placed a hand on the younger man's leg. "Did you find something on the flash drive?"

Neal stared at him, momentarily confused. "No. Not that."

"OK what?"

"I went to a doctor..."

"You've been feeling that bad?"

Neal nodded.

"Why didn't you say something?" Peter stood. "What did they tell you?"

"Nothing" Neal quietly admitted as he clasped his hands together. "I have to go in tomorrow and they told me not to come alone. Peter, it has to be bad."

"Hey. Look at me!"

Neal looked up and it didn't take a genius to see how scared he was.

"Don't think like that. It might be nothing." Peter looked away, unable to handle his partner's pain. "Do you want me to go with you?"

Peter turned when his question was greeted with silence.

"Neal!" Peter sat down and grabbed Neal by the shoulders. "Look at me. Please."

Neal blinked away the tears without success. He swiped at them haphazardly before meeting Peter's gaze.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Peter asked again as he cupped the younger man's neck with a gentle squeeze.

Neal nodded.

"OK." Peter rested his hand on Neal's head, "You're staying here tonight." It wasn't a question and Neal was thankful he didn't have to move. He sat motionless as Peter walked away and returned a few minutes later with a t-shirt and sweatpants. "They're clean" he remarked as he dropped them in Neal's lap. He turned and allowed Neal the privacy he needed to change.

"What about work?" Neal asked as he carefully folded his clothing and placed them in a pile on the floor.

"I'll call Hughes. Tell him we need tomorrow off."

"That's not what I meant."

Neal leaned back and crossed his arms, guarding against the sudden chill. He didn't complain when a blanket was draped over him.

"Neal, don't worry about the job" Peter said as he settled next to his partner.

"But if I can't work..."

"Stop!" Peter reached over and adjusted the blanket, allowing his hand to linger on Neal's arm. "You're not going back to jail, I promise." Gently he squeezed Neal's arm. "Understand?"

Neal nodded his answer as he fidgeted and tried to get comfortable.

"How do you feel right now?"

"Tired" Neal admitted as he briefly closed his eyes. It was that feeling that never seemed to let up, that finally persuaded Neal to see a doctor.

"Neal, it could be anything."

"No it can't. Anything not serious and he would have told me."

"Maybe he wants your co-pay" Peter interjected with a slight chuckle.

"Maybe he wants to see my face when he tells me I'm dying."

"_Neal..."_

"It's possible."

"Neal!"

"Sorry." Neal pulled his legs up and curled up into himself.

"Are you hungry? There's leftovers from dinner."

"No. Where's Elizabeth?"

"She's meeting a client. She'll be home soon."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Up to you" Neal whispered as he glanced over at his partner. "I hate small talk and it doesn't help."

Peter smiled. "I know.

"You can put the game on."

Peter quickly snatched up the remote and turned the TV on.

"Do you believe in karma?" Neal asked a few minutes later.

"Neal, you are not being punished for your past crimes" Peter remarked with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes.

"That wasn't the question."

"No, I don't" Peter answered emphatically.

"I do" Neal countered, as he tossed the blanket to the floor.

"Are you hot?"

"No. Bored." Neal leaned forward and rested his chin in his hands as he eyed the baseball game.

"Idle minds" Peter mumbled as he walked over to the desk and pulled out a deck of cards.

"Pick the game." Peter pulled the cocktail table near them and placed the cards down.

"War" Neal said as he perked up and started shuffling.


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks.

Two weeks spent chauffeuring Neal from doctor to specialist for tests and more tests and finally a diagnosis at Sloan-Kettering.

Peter took notes as Neal sat beside him numb; words that barely registered at that moment but would later, thanks to the internet and a bevy of information.

Myelodysplastic Syndrome; Neal had the severe form and was considered high risk. Chemo was the first treatment and then a bone marrow transplant. The doctor continued to explain other options but the transplant was the only choice for long term remission and he felt Neal was young and healthy enough to go through it.

He asked if they had questions. Neither man spoke, each trying to digest it all.

He gave them pamphlets and explained the National Donor Program and said they'd start looking for a match.

He explained introduction chemo and how rough it would be, but it was needed to get Neal in remission before transplant.

And then he looked Neal in the eyes and told him long term survival was the goal and Neal had an excellent chance to beat this.

* * *

The pencil snapped in half and Peter swore. He tossed the forms aside and leaned back in his chair. He spent the day fighting to get Neal insurance and the time off both would need. Hughes was sympathetic but he had an office to run and he wasn't happy about losing one of his best agents.

Peter had agreed to be the caregiver; there really wasn't much of a choice. He would be there throughout the transplant and learn how to give Neal his medication and clean his lines and whatever else they told him that he couldn't remember at the moment.

He glanced up as the door opened and Mozzie walked in.

"What are you doing here?" Peter stood angrily. "I told you to stay with Neal today."

"Suit he doesn't want me there."

"He doesn't know what he wants. Mozzie you know I have to get all of these forms filled out."

"Suit, I'm not looking for his mother."

"Mozzie, we agreed..."

"Peter, no." Mozzie stared up at the agent. "He's afraid whoever killed Ellen will go after her. We need to agree on this point; I promised him I wouldn't let you look for her. He doesn't need that kind of stress right now."

"Fine." Peter rubbed his forehead. "Now, please go back to the hospital and sit with Neal."

"He kicked me out."

"Mozzie, he shouldn't be alone."

"His choice suit" Mozzie said as he sorted through the paperwork. "Maybe this wasn't the right choice..."

"It's the only choice" Peter barked out. "Mozzie don't you dare start filling his head with conspiracy theories. You know the odds, we all do."

"It's only the second day and he's wiped out." Mozzie sank into the kitchen chair.

"They said this would be rough and that's why he's inpatient. Once they get him into remission he'll get to rest before..."

"Before the real fun begins" Mozzie muttered. "Someone else's blood..."

"Bone marrow" Peter interrupted. "He'll get healthy bone marrow so he can beat this." Peter sat down and faced the other man. "Mozzie he can't beat this alone and he doesn't need us fighting. Can we call a truce until then?"

"We can try" Mozzie answered as he picked up the broken pencil. "Suit, you go sit with him and I'll finish up here."

With a sigh, Peter stood. "Take the dog out in an hour. I'll call Elizabeth and let her know to what to expect when she gets home."

* * *

Peter hated hospitals; he probably wasn't alone in his feelings but ever since he was eight years old and had to say goodbye to his grandmother before they turned off the respirator, he had trouble stepping inside without his heart racing. To think he'd be spending as much as three months inside during the transplant was not something he could even imagine.

He had talked to the nurse and knew Neal was extremely nauseous and vomiting. But at least the chemo was over for the day and it would take a couple of hours before he felt better.

He entered quietly.

Neal was curled up in a ball with a little metal basin near his face.

"Hey Neal." Peter pulled a chair over and sat. "How bad are you feeling?"

"Think the marathon is out" Neal mumbled as he turned and stretched his legs. "They said the meds should kick in shortly." Neal covered his eyes with his hand.

"Do you want me to turn the light off?"

"No." Neal shifted in bed, trying to get comfortable. "They're pumping poison into my body in order to save my life. Ironic huh?"

"Yeah" Peter agreed as he stood. "Stop moving so I can untangle the blankets." Peter carefully pulled the blankets away. "Do you want to lie on your stomach or back?"

"I'd prefer a beach somewhere" Neal whispered as he closed his eyes.

"Me too buddy" Peter said as he pulled the covers up. Thinking Neal might go to sleep Peter sat down and quietly watched his partner.

"Is Mozzie mad?" Neal asked a few minutes later, again curling up with his arms tight against his middle.

"Are you going to be sick?" Peter questioned as he sprang up.

"Don't know." Neal tried to sit up and cried out in frustration when the IV got in the way.

"Take it easy" Peter soothed as he moved the pole away and sat down allowing Neal to lean against him. "It's ok" Peter said several times as Neal buried his face against Peter's shoulder and willed his stomach to settle.

"Better" Neal mumbled a few minutes later as he pulled away from Peter and stretched out, this time on his back.

"Mozzie said you kicked him out" Peter remarked as he again fixed the blankets.

"He wouldn't shut up."

"Neal, he's worried about you..."

"He doesn't think the transplant is the right thing."

Peter sighed as he pushed the chair closer. "Neal, you know this is your only chance at a cure."

"I know. I've read everything you have." Neal turned slightly. "You can still back out, you know that."

"I'm in this with you" Peter said evenly, holding Neal's gaze.

"Thank you." Neal smiled weakly before falling back against the pillow. "Don't think I could do this alone."

"Not a chance." Peter reached over and took Neal's hand. "I'll be here the whole time."

* * *

"Hey hon" Elizabeth greeted Peter as he entered their home. "How's Neal doing?"

"He's better" Peter replied as he tossed his jacket on the chair. "Ate a little dinner and he was sleeping soundly when I left." Peter eyed the corner of the living room. "I see you started shopping. Everything is wrapped right?"

Elizabeth nodded as she put down the notebook she was writing in. "I read the pamphlets too...only new things allowed in the transplant room." She stood and neared Peter. "Are you sure about this?" She wrapped herself in his open arms. "This isn't a small thing you're doing."

Peter pulled away with a big sigh. "If I don't El, who will? He doesn't want me to look for his mother. We know nothing about this father. Mozzie?" Peter chuckled. "The minute I turn my back on him, he's going to sneak Neal out of there..."

"No he won't." Elizabeth smiled. "I talked to him today and he's scared. You know Neal means a lot to him."

"Yeah, I know." Peter wandered into the kitchen.

"Peter, that's not a reason to do this." Elizabeth followed, took Peter's dinner from the fridge and placed it in the microwave. "This could be a year out of our lives. And what about your job?"

"El, he's my partner and that means family. I can't let him do this alone."

"Fine." She reached up and kissed his cheek. "I'm in this too, got it? We do this together for Neal."

"I love you" Peter whispered as he sat down to eat. "Oh I talked to the coordinator" Peter said as he shuffled food into his mouth. "They found ten potential matches for Neal."

"Now what?" Elizabeth reached over and snatched a carrot from Peter's plate.

"They have to contact them and do more testing. He's sure they'll have a perfect match when Neal is ready for transplant."

"This seems so unreal" Elizabeth whispered as tears welled up in her eyes. "Two months ago he was on an island and tonight he's sleeping in a hospital..."  
"I know." Peter reached over and took her hand. "I know" he repeated sadly.

* * *

Peter hurried through the hospital doors and took the stairs up three flights to Neal's floor. He had called before leaving home to check on Neal and was told he had had a bad night, fighting a fever most of it.

He stopped at the desk first; Neal was still battling a fever and chemo had been cancelled for the day to give his body a rest.

He entered with some trepidation; immediately noticing that Neal now had four tubes attached. Peter made a mental note for future reference...more tubes probably meant more issues. The light was off but the morning sun was shining brightly through the half-closed blinds.

"Neal" Peter whispered in case he was sleeping.

Neal turned his way with a quiet groan.

"I heard it was a rough night."

"Just peachy" Neal mumbled as he stared up at Peter.

"Anything you need?"

"A do-over" Neal whispered before turning his head.

Peter rarely felt helpless but that's exactly how he felt watching Neal lay so still. He pulled a chair over and sat with his eyes glued on the man in bed. Neal grimaced in pain and moaned as he hiked the covers up to his chin.

"Are you cold?" Peter asked as he tucked the sides in tighter.

"Yeah" Neal admitted as he burrowed deeper under the blanket.

"Be right back." Peter left and returned a few minutes later with an extra blanket.

"Better?" he asked after covering Neal.

Neal nodded as one blue eye peeked out.

"Wish I could do more" Peter whispered.

"Being here is enough" Neal countered as he fidgeted more, unable to get comfortable.

"Lay still" Peter gently ordered as he draped his arm across Neal. "Try to sleep." It wasn't long before Neal's breathing evened out and the pain seemed to ease up.

Peter leaned back in the uncomfortable chair and grabbed the remote, muting it before he turned the TV on, knowing this was only the first of many long days watching his friend suffer.


	3. Chapter 3

Neal put the laptop down and glanced towards the kitchen where Peter was sitting at the table, making plans for the transplant and Neal's admittance in a week.

Neal wasn't ready but the doctors felt he was and they had to move fast; he knew the longer they waited the better chance of a relapse and that decreased his odds immensely.

"Neal, you ok?"

"Tired" the ex-con admitted.

"Not surprising. They just called with your counts."

"Let me guess" Neal glumly said. "I need to go in for more blood."

Peter nodded. "They said they'll be ready for us in two hours..."

"And the transfusion will take 4 hours" Neal muttered with a deep sigh.

"Bring your laptop. I know Mozzie put enough on there to keep you busy for a year."

"Peter this seems so surreal..."

"I know." Peter sat down next to Neal. "You're going to beat this."

"And if I don't?"

"Neal, the odds are in your favor."

"Someone has to bring those odds down. How do you know it won't be me?"

"Don't." Peter patted Neal's leg before standing.

"Peter, if I die there are things you need to know. Things you'll need to find" Neal added as he looked away.

"So tell me."

"If I do you'll have to arrest me. If things go south I won't have time..." Neal paused with a weary smile. "My deathbed confession could take hours."

Peter shook his head as he walked to the kitchen, returning with paper and an envelope.

"Here." He handed it to Neal. "Write everything down today and seal the envelope. I won't read it unless you..." Peter refused to go on.

"Unless I die" Neal finished for him. "Peter you sure you can ignore the temptation?"

"I think I'll have other things to worry about. Now put your mask on."

"Peter..."

"You know the rules. You wear that in public. If we go now we can stop by the apartment and see how Elizabeth is doing."

* * *

"Peter, what are you doing back here?" They had just left an hour ago for Neal's transfusion.

"He kicked me out" Peter said as he glanced around the small apartment. "Did everyone leave already?"

"Yeah, we're pretty much done here. It's as clean as it's going to get."

"And small" Peter added. "I was hoping to talk to Diana and Clinton. I was going to invite them to our place for dinner."

"Miss them, don't you?"

Peter nodded. "I just want this to start so we can get it over with."

Elizabeth neared Peter and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding tight. "We still have our plan in place?"

"Oh yeah" Peter whispered as he held her. "Once Neal is doing better and out of the hospital, we get Mozzie to babysit and I sneak home." It could be months but at least it was something to look forward to.

"Can't wait" Elizabeth said as she wriggled free. "Shouldn't you go back to the hospital?"

"Neal is fine. He's writing his memoirs and doesn't want me hovering. Besides I can think of something better to do with my time." He reached for Elizabeth but she easily avoided his hands. "Peter, not here. This is Neal's place to get well."

Sighing Peter rolled his eyes. "OK, let's go get something to eat."

"His memoirs?" Elizabeth suddenly asked.

Peter smiled. "He's writing everything down he wants me to know in case he dies."

"And you're letting him? Peter, he shouldn't be talking like that."

"One, I can't stop him and two...it keeps him busy so I can spend time with my wife. Let's go. We're wasting precious time." Peter retrieved Elizabeth's jacket from the closet and guided her out of the apartment.

* * *

Peter grabbed his robe before shuffling downstairs in his bare feet. He thought he heard the TV on and knew that Neal must be up. His partner had been staying with them for the past week; it was Peter's idea so he could keep an eye on his friend and when Neal didn't protest he knew the younger man didn't want to be alone.

The week had been busy with last minute tests and more paperwork and meetings with doctors and therapists to ensure that Neal was physically and mentally able to go through the arduous process that would begin tomorrow.

Neal had passed with flying colors; though Peter was concerned about his emotional well being. Each day Neal seemed to be slipping away a little more, as if preparing himself and those around him for what could happen. Peter and Elizabeth had spent the week reeling Neal back in with a quick hug or an arm around his shoulder and just talking about the future and ensuring Neal that he would be a part of it.

"Can't sleep?" Peter asked as he strolled towards the sofa.

"No" Neal answered as he flipped stations again. "Sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't." Peter sat down next to him. "I couldn't sleep either."

After watching Neal flip through stations at a rapid speed, Peter grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

"It's ok to be scared" Peter quietly commented as Neal pulled his legs up and rested his face against his knees.

"I know I am" Peter continued as he gently cupped Neal's neck.

"It was nice of everyone to come to dinner tonight."

"Felt like a funeral" Neal whispered in a thick voice.

"Did Mozzie ever call back?"

"No." He hadn't shown up for dinner and Peter knew Neal was worried about him.

"Hey, come here." Peter pulled Neal back until the younger man was leaning on him. When Neal didn't protest Peter went a little further and wrapped his arm around Neal, holding him tight as Neal rested his head against Peter.

"Mozzie will be fine and so will you" Peter quietly soothed.

"I am scared" Neal admitted between deep breaths.

"I know." Peter ran a hand through Neal's hair, knowing with the next round of chemo it would be gone. He knew Neal wasn't looking forward to that but he also knew June had a few caps made for when it did happen.

"Neal, do you think you can sleep?"

"Can we stay here?" Neal countered.

"Sure" Peter said as he turned the TV back on, allowing some noise to filter in.

* * *

Peter didn't think any day could move slower. The night had dragged and neither man had slept. Elizabeth's demeanor when she came downstairs spoke for how little sleep she had gotten.

Elizabeth made breakfast and no one ate. Quietly they got dressed and put Neal's hospital suitcase in the car. All of Peter's things were at the apartment and he planned to go back and forth to take a shower when possible.

Elizabeth tried to hold the tears back but it was impossible when she hugged Neal goodbye. He remained stoic as he pulled away and quietly got into the car.

"Let me know when I can visit" Elizabeth said as Peter tried to console her.

"I will. I'll call you later." After a quick kiss Peter got into the car and drove away. Elizabeth watched after them with the tears flowing freely down her face.

After a quiet car ride Peter parked and they headed towards the hospital. Even Peter couldn't muster any more encouragement; he was as scared and anxious as Neal was and there was nothing left to say.

"Suit."

Both men stopped with the familiar voice and waited for Mozzie to appear from the shadows.

"Neal, I think a black mask would work better. More mysterious."

Neal smiled as he removed the mask.

"I'll see if they have any."

Mozzie approached them.

"You better take care of him" Mozzie addressed Peter.

"I will."

"Neal, you call me."

Neal nodded.

"Mozzie you'll be able to visit once Neal has engrafted."

"In there." Mozzie pointed towards the building.

"Yes, in there and I expect you to show up when I call" Peter remarked.

"Neal, we need to go." Peter grasped his shoulder and gently pushed him forward.

They passed by the quirky man and Neal smiled with a slight shrug. Mozzie showing up meant a lot.

At the door of the hospital Neal stopped and stared up at the sun, knowing he might never feel it again.


	4. Chapter 4

And so it began. Less than two hours after being admitted, Neal was down in radiation. Peter was left walking around the transplant room and trying to make it a little more personal. It was a decent size room with a bed and a sofa, presumably where Peter would sleep if he spent the night. They really hadn't talked about it, so Peter would leave that decision up to Neal.

As long as Peter had minimal contact with the public and washed his hands frequently he would be allowed in the room without a mask and gloves. Anyone else coming to visit would have to wear both.

Peter took two pictures out of the bag and placed them by the sink. One was of the whole White Collar division and the other was Neal with Satchmo; both a reminder of Neal's life after transplant.

Sighing Peter glanced out the window at the other rooms. Some had the drapes drawn, others were open; several patients were walking the halls with their masks on and their poles trailing behind them.

It was a world Peter never realized existed; it never crossed his mind that people were fighting for their lives on a daily basis. He was thankful this wing was for adults only; though he knew there were children in the building going through the same process. Shaking his head, he started putting Neal's clothes in the small dresser behind the sofa. They had brought several pairs of pajamas pants and t-shirts and underwear and a robe for when Neal finally made it to the halls.

They said it would be several hours before Neal was back so Peter took out the laptop and started playing solitaire.

* * *

Peter sprang up as they wheeled Neal back into the room and carefully moved him into bed.

"He started getting nauseous down there" the nurse explained as she injected medication into his central line. "This should help." Neal moaned as he covered his eyes with his arm. "Neal, just rest. I'll be back to check on you soon." Alone, Peter watched helplessly as Neal turned on his side and clutched his stomach.

He didn't bother to ask if he could help, there was nothing he could do that would make Neal feel better. The rest of the day was free; Peter had studied the schedule like it was one of his cases. The next three days would be chemo and the fifth more radiation. Neal would get one day to rest and the seventh day or day zero as they called it, he would receive the life saving bone marrow.

From there they counted the days upward and watched for engraftment; usually between days seven and twenty-one. It was during this time that Neal would feel the worse but if all went well, as his body engrafted he would start to feel better.

All that seemed so far away as he watched Neal wither in bed.

"Neal, stay still until you feel better" Peter said as he hovered over the bed.

"No going back" Neal muttered as he closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, finally feeling some relief as the medication started to work.

"Never an option" Peter quietly remarked as he sat down in a nearby chair. Neal kept his eyes closed and his features softened as the pain eased up, allowing him to sleep. Peter grabbed the laptop and checked his emails, smiling when he saw one from his wife.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when Neal started to stir, first with a small groan and then a louder one as he fought to get out of bed.

Peter jumped off the sofa and reached Neal before he succeeded.

He held his friend down while gently talking to him.

Reality finally set in and Neal remembered where he was and stopped fighting.

"I thought I was in jail" Neal mumbled as he rubbed his eyes.

"Not exactly" Peter said as he sat on the edge of the bed. "How do you feel?"

Neal thought it over. "OK" he answered as he struggled to sit up. "Need to pee" he said as Peter shadowed him to the bathroom and waited until Neal was done.

"Are you hungry?" Peter asked.

"No." Neal waved away Peter's hand as he climbed back into bed.

"How about something to drink?"

"Stop fussing over me" Neal yelled as he rolled over on his side and pulled the covers up to his chin. Peter took a step back with a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Neal, do you want me to stay at the apartment tonight?"

Neal sat up and eyed Peter before shaking his head no.

"Neal, tell me what you want?"

"Can you bring me my laptop?"

Peter retrieved it and waited as Neal searched for something.

"X-Files ok?" Neal asked as he brought up the old TV show. Peter nodded as he pulled a chair closer.

"To answer your question" Neal quietly said a few minutes later, "I just want you to be here."

* * *

_Hey Hon. _

_It's three in the morning so I'm assuming you're asleep and Satch is drooling on my pillow. Neal is doing ok. He just fell asleep. Can you believe he yelled at me for fussing over him? I can hear you laughing. _

_Seems forever even though it's only one day and I miss you so much. _

_Tomorrow (day -6) starts the nasty chemo that's rough on his kidneys. Neal will have to pee every two hours so I doubt either one of us gets much sleep. _

_A young man died today. Neal doesn't know and I can't tell him. I was talking to a lady in the family lounge and she said he was the third patient to die this month. Her son is going through his second transplant for some disease I never heard of. Some kind of anemia. They've been here for nearly a year. _

_I can't imagine going through this more than once. _

_Tell June and Mozzie they can be here for the transplant. Neal's ok with it and I think it will do him good to have everyone here. _

_Guess I should get some sleep before he wakes up. _

_Can't wait to see you. _

_Love ya. _

Peter closed his computer and took his calendar out. He marked off the first day with a black X and then stretched out on the sofa, hopeful he'd get a few hours of sleep before the next day started.


	5. Chapter 5

"Please Neal" Peter begged as he offered the pills to his friend. And this had become Peter's mantra. Please eat. Please drink. Please take your medicine. Please let me help you.

And Neal fought against the nausea that never went away and the weakness that invaded his once strong body. He fought to hold on to the dignity that seemed to be stripped away with each passing day.

"Go away." Neal batted Peter's hand away and buried his face deeper into the pillow.

The morning had just begun and Peter wasn't sure he was going to last. This was the third day of chemo and Peter had hoped it would go better than the previous two. If he wasn't helping Neal to the bathroom he was grabbing the bucket and watching helplessly as Neal retched up nothing but bile.

Peter hadn't slept in two days and Neal only did in small stretches before the vomiting or worse, diarrhea would have him running to the bathroom.

"Only two more" Peter pleaded when Neal looked his way. "Please Neal."

Finally Neal reached over, grabbed the pills and swallowed them dry. Peter counted the minutes and when the allotted time past and the pills stayed in Neal's system, the agent breathed a sigh of relief that they wouldn't have to start all over again.

"Neal, you have an hour until they hook you up. Do you want to walk around?"

Neal nodded reluctantly and allowed Peter to haul him up. Neal took a few steps and reached out for Peter's arm to keep his balance.

"Just a few more" Peter encouraged as he dragged Neal's pole behind them.

"Need to sit" Neal pulled away and eased himself into the chair.

"How the mighty have fallen" he quipped with a weary smile. "What do you think Keller would say if he saw me now?"

Peter shrugged.

"He'd probably say I deserved this."

"No ono deserves this" Peter countered.

"I've done a lot of bad things in my life."

"And you'll get the chance to do more once this is over." Peter glanced out the window. "Jimmy is out there. Do you want to get up and wave?"

Neal nodded and neared the window as Jimmy passed by with his thumb up, his usual greeting to everyone he saw.

"I can't believe he's going through this for a second time. Peter do you think he understands?"

"I don't know. His mother seems to think he does." Though in his twenties, Jimmy functioned with the mental capacity of a five year old.

"Seems cruel" Neal said as he walked back to the chair and slowly sat.

"Babies go through this" Peter remarked. "Cancer is cruel. This saves lives." He glanced Neal's way just as the ex-con started scratching his head.

"Neal stop." Peter pulled his hand away along with some of Neal's hair. "You know a little cut can kill you right now. Stop scratching."

"It itches" Neal whined as he stared at his hair in Peter's hand.

"We'll get it off later" Peter promised as he tossed the hair in the garbage. "How about a couple of more steps before chemo starts?"

"You're enjoying this" Neal accused as he curled up on the chair.

"You think so?" Peter shook his head in disbelief.

"No" Neal admitted as he closed his eyes to the outside world. With a small sigh Peter eyed the halls. "Neal, I need some coffee. I'll be back in a little bit."

Peter quickly left the room.

"Hey Peter."

"Jimmy. How are you?"

Jimmy smiled as he gave Peter a high five. Due to his disease he was short-statured and barely came up to Peter's chest. "I'm good. How's Neal?"

"Not so good" Peter responded.

"It gets better." Jimmy said before taking off to finish his lap.

"I hope so" Peter whispered as he left the transplant ward.

* * *

Neal slept. The last of the chemo was over and his body gave out to exhaustion.

Peter paced. Neal hadn't said much to him since the early morning accusation and though he knew Neal didn't mean it, it still hurt.

He thought about calling Elizabeth back; she had called earlier but Neal needed his help and he was short with her and now he felt guilty.

He walked out and neared the nurse's desk.

"Do you think he'll sleep for a while?" he asked Melody, the head nurse on duty.

"He should. Do you need to get out of here?"

"Is it that obvious?" Peter countered with a deep sigh.

Melody smiled. "I tell all the caregivers to take care of themselves. This is just the beginning and it's only going to get worse before it gets better. Is there anyone else who can spend time here?"

"Not really. My wife would be willing but Neal wouldn't go for that. He doesn't have any family." Peter paused with a shrug. "We're partners at work and my wife and I are probably the closest he has to family." Peter eyed Neal's transplant room. "Though he would probably never admit to that. He accused me of enjoying this."

"It's normal for patients to lash out. Beyond feeling awful, he's isolated and helpless right now. Peter he knows no matter what he says to you, you'll be there for him."

"I know. A hot shower sounds real good right now" Peter added with a weary smile.

"Go. I have your number and I'll call you if anything changes."

"Thank you." Peter glanced back once before taking off for the apartment.

* * *

Less than two hours later Peter was racing back to the hospital after receiving a phone call.

"Peter, don't go in there." Melody stopped him.

"Why? What happened?"

"He had an explosion in there."

"Explosion?" Peter asked, confused.

"The body isn't made to handle chemo."

"Oh!" Peter finally understood. "He didn't make it to the bathroom did he?"

"Not even close" Melody answered. "Give them some time to clean him and the room up, ok?"

Fifteen minutes later Peter was allowed back in. Neal was curled up in the chair with a blanket wrapped around him.

"We'll be back in a few minutes to shave his head" the orderly said as he passed Peter and exited the room.

Peter neared his friend.

"Hey Neal." Carefully Peter sat on the arm of the chair and gently squeezed Neal's shoulder.

"Did they tell you what happened?"

"Yeah."

"Glad you weren't here."

"Me too buddy" Peter admitted as he rubbed circles on Neal's back.

"Don't tell Elizabeth."

"I don't tell her everything."

"Yeah you do. You talk while you type your emails."

"I do not. Do I?" Peter chuckled softly. "I promise I won't tell her this."

"Sorry about earlier. I know you're not enjoying this." Neal leaned over and rested his head on Peter's leg, grabbing Peter's free hand in the process.

Peter swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in his throat as he continued to rub Neal's back. Since the diagnosis this was the first time that Neal had willingly sought out comfort from him and Peter knew it was a testament to just how lousy he was feeling.

They stayed that way until the orderly returned with the clippers needed to cut Neal's hair.

"Come on buddy" Peter urged as he helped Neal sit up straight. Neal leaned against Peter when it was obvious he didn't have the strength to sit up on his own. The orderly worked fast and it took only a few minutes to remove the rest of Neal's hair.

"Better?" Peter asked as he eyed Neal's bald head.

Neal reached up and felt it. "Surreal" Neal mumbled as he again curled up and found Peter's leg with his head.

It wasn't the most comfortable position but Peter wasn't about to move; he would allow Neal to dictate how long they remained this way.

* * *

_El, _

_I'm so sorry for cutting you off earlier. I know I haven't been in touch but Neal has been feeling so bad that I haven't had the time to do anything else but be here for him. _

_Last day of chemo today and I think we're at day -3. It hit him real hard and he's slept most of the day. He needs it and if he sleeps through the whole night, maybe I can too. _

_Oh, I called his doctor today. They were thinking of cancelling radiation tomorrow because he's been feeling so rotten. I argued against it. It's part of the protocol for this disease and they can't skip anything that might allow the disease to return. The doctor agreed with me; radiation wasn't that hard on him and he'll mostly sleep through it. _

_I can't wait to see you and I'm even looking forward to seeing Mozzie. Don't tell him I said that. Neal is still ok with all of you coming for the transplant. Just don't expect much from him. They shaved his head today and shockingly...even bald the nurses swoon near him. Go figure. _

_He likes the cap June made for him and he's still wearing it. _

_Hon, they said it will get worse and I can't imagine it getting worse than this. Neal keeps saying it's all surreal and I have to agree. _

_I miss you so much and I even miss Satchmo's slobbering kisses. _

_Can't think of anything else. _

_Love ya. _

Peter closed the computer and turned off the little lamp. He took out his calendar and marked off another day, falling asleep soon after.


	6. Chapter 6

Peter stared out the window, like a kid in a candy store, impatiently waiting for his wife to show up.

He heard Neal moan and turned.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as Neal rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Neal grunted as he lowered the blankets and turned on his side.

"Neal, you need to sit up for a bit." Peter neared him and sat on the edge of the bed. "We'll just go from the bed to the chair. Not even five feet."

"I don't like you" Neal muttered as Peter stopped him from pulling up the covers.

"You don't have to" Peter countered with a chuckle and a pat on Neal's leg. "But you do have to sit up. Come on."

Peter pulled Neal to a seated position, mindful of the IV's in his arm. He put an arm around Neal's waist and carefully stood, painfully aware of how weak Neal had become.

Five feet took forever as Neal leaned more on Peter than his own two feet. He was breathing heavily when Peter deposited him in the chair.

"Good job" Peter said as he moved Neal's pole behind the chair.

"Did you remind them about Mozzie?"

"Yes I told them he's allergic to latex."

"Thank you." Neal leaned back and closed his eyes.

"Neal, are you ok?"

One eye opened and stared up in disbelief.

"Is that a serious question?" he retorted with as much indignation as he could muster.

"You know what I mean." Peter knelt down until he was eye level with Neal. "Kind of a big day don't you think?"

"Not something I ever thought I'd be doing" Neal admitted with a quiet sigh. He shifted slightly in the chair, wincing in the process. When Peter moved to help, Neal waved him away and slowly maneuvered himself until he was more comfortable.

"Peter, I need you to promise me something."

"OK" Peter said evenly, as he stood with a groan and plopped himself on the sofa with his eyes on his friend.

"I'm not afraid to die..."

"Neal, don't."

"Hear me out" Neal demanded loudly.

"Fine" Peter hunched over with his focus on the floor, refusing to meet Neal's gaze. Although they rarely talked about it, the possibility of Neal dying weighed heavily on Peter's mind.

"I'm not afraid to die" Neal continued as if the interruption had never happened, "but I don't want to die alone." Neal paused to catch his breath, surprised that a simple task could leave him so breathless.

"Neal, I'll be here." Peter continued to bore a hole in the floor.

"Please look at me." He waited for the agent to comply, surprised to see tears welling up in Peter's eyes.

"Peter, don't." Neal looked away as Peter fought to keep his composure, finally wiping his face with his sleeve.

"Wish I had a camera" Neal snickered, causing Peter to smile.

"It won't be easy but if it happens..."

"Neal, stop. Please." Peter stood and neared the window, eyeing a world he never asked to be a part of. He turned and stared at Neal, wondering how the ex-con had weaseled his way into his life and shockingly into his heart.

"Neal, if it gets to that point, I promise you I'll be here. Can we please stop talking about this?"

"Only if I get to go back to bed" Neal countered with a chuckle.

"Gladly" Peter said as he helped Neal up and shadowed him to the bed, holding the lines as Neal shifted until he was comfortable.

* * *

Peter leaned against the window. Elizabeth had just called to say they were parking the car and would be there shortly. A few minutes later he perked up when he saw them enter the transplant ward. He raced out to meet them.

"Hon." Peter embraced his wife and held on for dear life, until she pulled free.

"Mozzie" Peter greeted as the quirky man nervously looked around. "Where's June?"

"Her granddaughter has a cold and she didn't want to take a chance" Elizabeth explained. "How's Neal?"

"Sleeping. Doing as well as expected." Peter shrugged. "Like me, eager to get this done so we can move forward." Peter led them to the room, stopping to pick up gloves and masks.

"Don't worry, they're not latex" Peter said as Mozzie shied away from the offered gloves. "Wear them or you can't go in."

Once inside the room Peter stood back and observed as they neared the bed. Neal stirred and opened his eyes, smiling weakly.

"Hey." He tried to sit up and swore when his body wouldn't obey.

"Take it easy" Peter said as he adjusted the bed until Neal was upright.

"Can I hug you?" Elizabeth asked as she glanced from Peter to Neal.

"I won't break" Neal answered and then smiled as Elizabeth gently hugged him.

"Hey Moz. How are you?"

"I should be asking you that" Mozzie said as his eyes darted around the room. "How much longer do you have to stay in here?"

"Until he engrafts" Peter answered for him. "Sit. Both of you" he ordered as he pushed two chairs closer. "They'll be in shortly to give Neal Benadryl before the transplant starts."

The room grew silent.

"Someone talk" Neal mumbled. You're boring me to sleep" he added with a yawn. Peter adjusted the bed downward and kept a comforting hand on Neal's arm as the ex-con drifted back to sleep.

"He looks terrible" Elizabeth whispered as she walked away from the bed, with tears streaking down her face.

"El, let's go down and get some coffee. Mozzie you stay here with Neal." Peter guided his wife out of the room.

A few minutes later Neal awoke. "Where's Peter?"

"They went to the cafeteria."

"Did I scare Elizabeth away?"

Mozzie shrugged. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

Neal smiled. "Peter won't let me."

"Probably a good thing" Mozzie countered.

"Moz, I have a plan. Want to help me?"

Mozzie leaned in closer. "Plan away."

* * *

For all intense purposes, the transplant was anti-climatic. The bag containing the bone marrow looked no different than the many transfusions that Neal had received in the past. They infused slowly as a nurse stood by checking vitals.

Neal slept. The rest stood in silence; they all knew the importance of the marrow but they knew the risks as well.

Peter glanced at his wife. She had managed to keep it together in front of Neal but Peter knew it wasn't going to last.

It was over in less than an hour. Alone, they continued to stare at Neal.

"He doesn't look any different" Mozzie quipped with a shake of his head. "I hear this is going to change his blood type. Kind of ruins your file on him. He can become a different person..."

"Mozzie" Peter warned, before laughing. "I'll have Diana update the file as soon as we know his blood type."

"Now what?" Elizabeth asked as she glanced out the window.

"Now, we wait and hope this works." Peter approached El and embraced her, resting his chin on her head.

"Now you two go back to the apartment and I'll stay the night with Neal."

They both turned and stared at Mozzie.

"No." Peter shook his head.

"Suit, it was Neal's idea and I'm ok with it. You look like you need a break and I'm pretty sure your wife needs you..." Mozzie smiled at Elizabeth.

"Let's go." Peter motioned him out of the room.

"OK, spill. Mozzie what kind of game are you playing?"

"It's not a game...I swear." Mozzie held his hands up in defeat.

"Do you understand what's going on in there?" Peter pointed at Neal's room. "He has no immune system left. If you take him out of here, it's akin to shooting him in the head."

"I'm good but I'm not that good..."

"I put nothing past you" Peter retorted.

"And I take that as a compliment." Mozzie bowed slightly. "But this is nothing more than giving you a break and helping Elizabeth."

Against his better judgment, Peter started liking the idea of a night alone with his wife. "You'll call me if anything changes?"

"I will."

"Sounds like a plan. Let's go tell Elizabeth."

Mozzie stopped before they re-entered the room. "Suit, what do I do in there?"

"Hope he sleeps peacefully through the night." Peter shrugged. "Call the nurse if he's in pain and hold his hand if he lets you."

"He allows that?" Mozzie asked, glancing at his gloved hand.

"Only if he's feeling lousy" Peter replied. "Oh, if he starts shifting around in bed, that usually means he's not comfortable. That's when the real fun begins." Ignoring the look Mozzie threw him, Peter walked back in.

* * *

Mozzie refused to sleep. He sat and watched Neal, occasionally glancing at the monitors behind the bed. He knew enough to know that Neal's heart rate was high as was his pulse but they said all was fine as they walked in once an hour to check his vitals.

Mozzie glanced at his phone. The suit had texted him every hour on the hour to see how Neal was doing. So much for getting any rest Mozzie silently mused.

Neal groaned. Mozzie tensed up as he watched his friend roll over.

"Peter?"

"Neal, it's me. Peter is at the apartment with Elizabeth."

Neal stared up, momentarily confused. "Yeah, I remember." Neal shut his eyes tight, grimacing in the process. "I don't feel well" he said as his heart rate climbed.

Mozzie barely moved before the nurse entered.

"Neal, are you in pain?"

Neal nodded as the nurse brought over another pole. "It's normal. I'm going to attach a pain pump and you can control it as needed." She pumped some morphine into his IV and it didn't take long for the medicine to take effect.

"Feeling better?"

Neal nodded.

"Mozzie, you're as white as a ghost" Neal remarked after the nurse left.

"You don't look much better" Mozzie countered as he sat down.

"This wasn't how we planned it on the island."

"Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans." Mozzie's phone vibrated. "It's the suit. Should I tell him you're up?"

"No. Tell him to go to sleep."

Mozzie took out the phone and quickly texted a message. By the time he was done, Neal was sleeping.

Mozzie ghosted his gloved hand over Neal's hand, grasping it briefly before pulling away.

He leaned back in his chair and continued to keep guard over his friend.


	7. Chapter 7

_El, _

_I let my guard down. Neal sailed through the last three days and I started to relax. And then it all hit. _

_The Mucositis developed just like they said. He started vomiting blood and I don't even want to talk about the other end. The sores are real bad in his mouth and he won't talk because it hurts too much. He's puffy from the steroids and they started giving all his medication through his IV. He can't keep anything down. _

_On top of all that his oxygen levels went down so they put him on oxygen. CT scan showed his lungs are clear so they think the water he's retaining is affecting his lungs. So they gave him more medicine to make him pee more which is frustrating because he doesn't have the strength to go to the bathroom. _

_He just lays there so quiet and still. Two things Neal never was and it's hard to see him like this. _

_They just finished giving him blood...and still no white cells. We need those to start fighting everything else. _

_They say he's doing ok and all this is normal. To them maybe. To me, it's scary and I'm worried. _

_If you get a chance, can you pick him up some more pajamas and underwear? A size bigger should be fine. _

_If anything comes up I'll call you. Otherwise, it's status quo, whatever that means. _

_Love ya. _

* * *

Peter closed the computer and glanced towards the bed. Neal was up and in the same position he had been for the past hour, mostly on his stomach with his face partially buried in the pillow and his arms folded tightly across his middle. His eyes were open but unfocused and he didn't seem to notice when Peter neared him.

"Neal, we need to put the medicine on your lips." He pointed to a tube on the night stand. Peter put a glove on and squeezed a glob of the ointment on his finger. "This might sting a little." The sores were open and bleeding and the second Peter touched him, Neal winced and shrank away.

"Easy buddy. I know it hurts, but this will keep them from getting infected." Peter used his free hand to hold Neal steady and quickly applied the medicine. "Just a little on the inside..." Neal hissed and batted Peter's hand away.

"Sorry. I'm almost done." Peter finished and took the glove off, tossing it in the garbage. "You did good" he soothed as he noticed tears streaking down Neal's face.

Peter took a tissue and gently wiped away the tears, already dreading having to do this again. He lowered himself to the chair and eye level to Neal.

"Wish I could do something to help you." As he talked, Peter ghosted his hand down Neal's cheek, avoiding the tube attached to his nose. "Neal, you can use the morphine. Now is not the time to be a martyr." Neal had been holding the button all morning but hadn't used it, even though it was obvious he was in pain.

The silence was deafening. With Neal's refusal to talk Peter had been monopolizing the conversation all morning and he had run out of things to say.

"Neal, can I turn the TV on?" He grabbed the ex-con's hand. "Squeeze one for yes and two for no." Two light squeezes followed.

Inwardly Peter sighed. Neal wanted quiet but Peter was stir crazy and it was only day 4. As his eyes wandered the small room, he worried that he wasn't going to be the person that Neal needed. He could handle the bodily functions Neal needed help with and he could give Neal his medication but he wasn't sure he could be that shoulder if Neal needed one.

More importantly he wasn't sure if Neal wanted that from him. In the short time they had been cooped up together Peter had begun to understand small things about his partner.

He did not want to be alone. Several times Peter had tried to go to the apartment to take a shower and Neal had stopped him. The worse he felt the more adamant he was that Peter stayed.

He wasn't a hand holder; Peter would take his hand when he thought Neal wanted the comfort but inevitably Neal would pull away. But if he was in pain he would latch on to Peter's wrist and not let go.

Except for a few tears here and there Neal didn't cry. He winced and he groaned in pain but for the most part, he kept his emotions at bay.

And he was quiet. And this unnerved Peter the most. The Neal he knew, his partner of two years, was not quiet. This version could stare into space for hours at a time without a word. Peter wished he knew what was going on in Neal's mind.

He glanced down as Neal grabbed his wrist. "Neal, push the button or I will." He started quietly counting to ten and when he hit five he saw Neal release the morphine.

"Good choice" Peter whispered and it only took a few minutes before the medicine took effect and Neal visibly relaxed.

"Neal, close your eyes. Get some rest before PT gets here." Neal didn't need the encouragement and it wasn't long before he was sleeping.

Peter took the opportunity to turn the TV on.

_El, _

_It's nearly midnight and day 5 is about to start. Nothing significant has changed with Neal but he is running a low grade fever. They say this is a good sign. I guess a fever is normal when the white cells start growing so maybe they'll count something in the morning. _

_I would love to see you tomorrow but I doubt Neal will allow you to visit. I will ask him but don't expect much. Right now he isn't our Neal. Can you believe I miss the Caffrey charm? And never repeat that because I will deny saying it. _

_Neal is sleeping so I'm going to try to also. _

_Love ya. _

* * *

Peter smiled as he saw Elizabeth enter the cafeteria. He raced to her.

"Hey hon" he whispered before kissing her.

"How's Neal?" she asked with her arms still tight around Peter.

"A little better today" Peter answered, unwilling to let her go.

"Can I see him?"

"No." Peter shook his head as he guided Elizabeth towards the line. They both ordered a coffee and muffin and quickly found an unoccupied table.

"El I'm sorry. He only agreed to me leaving because he knew you bought bigger pants for him." He motioned to the bag on the floor.

"I can't imagine Neal...fat" she hesitated before saying that word.

"Not fat" Peter corrected. "Puffy, bloated. It's all because of the steroids and everything else they're pumping into him." He shrugged. "It's temporary and then I'll be fighting to get him to eat. El he's already lost his muscle tone and he's so weak. It takes two of them to help him walk a couple of steps."

Elizabeth picked at her muffin before popping a small piece in her mouth. Eyeing her husband she took in his general condition; the dark circles under his eyes and the obvious weight lost.

"Neal's not the only one changing right now. Peter, you need to take care of yourself."

"I'm trying" Peter admitted as he stuffed the muffin down. "It's so hard because Neal doesn't want me out of his sight and it's hard to eat in there when he's so sick."

"Peter. Find the time. You have no choice. You're no good to him if you get sick." Elizabeth wasn't hungry so she placed the rest of her muffin in Peter's plate and watched him devour it. She got up and returned a few minutes later with an egg sandwich and placed it in front of her husband.

"I'm guessing this is more food than you've had in days."

Peter didn't deny that as he took a bite of the sandwich, savoring the taste.

He finished the sandwich and glanced at his watch. "I should go. This is the most I've been away since the transplant." He started to stand but Elizabeth grabbed his arm. "Sit. And that's an order. They have your number and they'll call if Neal needs you." Slowly Peter sat with a small sigh.

"El, this is so hard." He looked away, closing his eyes in the process. She took his hand and squeezed gently, watching as her husband fought to regain his composure.

"Do you want to take a walk? Get some flesh air."

He nodded, unwilling to trust his voice. Elizabeth grabbed the package and Peter's hand and together they left the hospital.

* * *

An hour later Peter returned, feeling better than he had in days, though a bit guilty also.

"Neal, I have clothes. Do you want to get dress?" He held up the bag.

"Yeah" Neal's voice was low but at least he was talking. He hated the hospital gown he was wearing but everything else was too tight.

"Underwear" Peter said as he took out two packages. Pajamas and look at this t-shirt." He held it up smiling. Kiss me I'm beautiful it said in bold, blue lettering. "Gotta love my wife" he said as he neared the bed. "You know the drill." Peter pushed the two poles away and carefully helped Neal to a seated position, trying to tune out the moans that escaped from his partner.

In this surreal world that wasn't part of the CI handbook; Peter dressed his partner as much as he was able. A quick push of the nurse's button brought help and Neal was unhooked long enough to get the t-shirt over his head and down his extended stomach.

"Feel ok?" Peter asked once they were alone.

Neal nodded.

"I saw your doctor in the hallway and your white count is at .2."

That didn't seem to register with Neal.

"It's a start" Peter explained. "Once the rest start rising, maybe we can get out of this room."

Neal remained stoic; unable or unwilling to think that far in the future.

"Can you sit in the chair for awhile?"

Neal thought that over and then nodded. Peter left and returned a few minutes later with help. He stood to the side as the two orderlies carefully moved Neal to the chair, with the ex-con helping as much as he could.

Peter settled on the arm of the chair and placed a cap on Neal's head. "Keeps the warmth in" he mused, before resting his hand on Neal's shoulder.

Neal reached for the remote and handed it to Peter. "Your choice" he whispered before leaning over and resting his head against Peter.

Peter smiled. Neal was talking and he got to watch TV. Maybe things were beginning to look up.


	8. Chapter 8

Neal slept peacefully, for the first time in nearly a week. Peter watched him, as he had during the night, waiting for what had become their normal routine; either racing Neal to the bathroom or bringing him the bedpan if he didn't have the strength to get up. The doctors called it a mild case of GVHD but Peter scoffed at that. If this was mild he didn't want to know what severe was. But finally they had found a mixture of drugs, mostly steroids that had slowed the output.

Neal had fully engrafted on day 11 but he had not felt well enough to leave the room. Peter planned to change that; he found a small room on the transplant floor that was rarely used and it had an old TV and a window that actually opened.

He hated the stale air in the room and he could only imagine how Neal felt; for the most part, beyond the unrelenting pain, he wasn't sure how his partner felt. He didn't talk and when Peter or the therapist tried to get him to, Neal clammed up.

Neal stirred as the sun started rising and Peter tensed, ready to grab his friend and rush him to the bathroom.

"Relax Peter" Neal mumbled as two dull, blue eyes stared up at him.

"You good?"

"I think so" Neal answered as he stretched his legs. "I need to pee" he added, as he kicked the covers off.

"Can you make it to the bathroom?"  
Neal nodded and Peter carefully unhooked his night feeds with expertise hands.

"Let's go." He helped Neal stand and kept a hand on his friend's back as they slowly walked the few feet. He deposited Neal on the toilet and then walked out, closing the door behind him.

Not that Neal would have cared if he had stood there; there were no more lines to cross after three weeks and Neal had long ago stopped worrying about his dignity.

Peter waited for the toilet to flush before he opened the door. The sink was so close Neal didn't have to get up to wash his hands.

Peter helped him back but instead of the bed he plopped Neal down in the chair.

"Neal, we need to talk."

"Did you find out more about Jimmy?"

Peter shook his head. "No more than we knew yesterday." The young man had caught a virus and was now in the ICU on a ventilator.

"This is about you" Peter quietly started as he grasped Neal's shoulders. "You need to get out of his room and we're doing it today."

"No." Neal shrugged off Peter's hands. "I don't feel well enough. Just let me be."

"Can't do" Peter countered as he stood. "I understand you don't have the strength to walk yet so we'll use a wheelchair..."

"NO" Neal screamed. "I'm not going out there. Jimmy was out there and now he's sicker..." Neal tried to stand but his legs gave out.

"Easy." Peter caught him and lowered him back to the chair. "Jimmy didn't get sick because of that. Neal your counts are high enough. Can you trust me on this? You need to get out of this room for a little while."

"Peter, I'm scared to leave" Neal admitted and that shocked them both.

"Why?" Peter asked as he lowered himself to the arm of the chair.

"I don't know." Neal curled up with face buried against his knees.

"Neal, you do understand the object of this process is to get out of here, right?"

Neal grunted his reply as Peter rubbed his head, feeling the first telltale signs of his hair returning. "OK, after morning rounds I'll talk to the doctors about taking you there."

Peter stood. "I'm going to get some coffee and I'll see if I can get an update on Jimmy."

* * *

"Peter, enough" Neal barked out as the agent placed a second blanket around him. "I have enough layers." They were ok with Neal getting some fresh air as long as Neal wore his mask and didn't get cold. Peter had bundled him up in a robe, two blankets, slippers and a hat.

"I'll take a third blanket just in case."

Neal rolled his eyes which was the only part of his body not covered.

"Can I take a picture?" Peter whipped out his cell phone.

"What? You're going to post it on the internet?" Neal shrugged. "I can see the title; Neal Caffrey, famous conman is now unrecognizable."

"Ex-con" Peter corrected as he took the photo. "Think this will go viral?"

"You wouldn't."

Peter smiled.

"What?"

"You sound a little like yourself. Now put your mask on so we can go out." Another milestone as they entered the hallway. A few of the nurses clapped as Peter pushed Neal by them and though he didn't seem excited Peter knew he was. After he got over the initial fear and received reassurance from the doctors, he was raring to go.

Peter had set the room up beforehand and quickly helped Neal into the chair positioned near the window. It wasn't much of a view but after three weeks anything would do. Peter opened the window just a crack; it was a cool, breezy day and it didn't take long for the air to seep in.

He heard Neal sigh as he burrowed under the blankets and stared out the window. Peter took that opportunity to toss the extra blanket on him before sitting down.

"You can turn the TV on" Neal remarked, glancing sideways.

"I'm good" Peter countered as he took out his crossword puzzle. "Are you feeling ok?"

Neal nodded. "I can't tell you how badly I want to go outside."

"You will." Peter told him as he briefly took Neal's hand with a reassuring grasp.

Neal grew quiet so Peter returned his attention to his puzzle. A few minutes later he was surprised when Neal grabbed his wrist.

"Are you in pain?"

"No."

Peter relaxed until he saw tears rolling down Neal's face.

"Neal, talk to me. Or talk to the therapist. You can't do this alone."

"I'm not alone." He squeezed Peter's wrist for emphasis.

"Why are you crying?"

"I have a right to" Neal whispered as he wiped his face with his free hand.

"You do" Peter agreed. "I'll be here when you're ready to talk."

Neal nodded as he pulled his hand away and curled up, falling asleep soon after.

* * *

_"El, _

_All in all, it was good day today. Neal is feeling better and I took him to that room I mentioned yesterday. He cried a little but won't tell me why. He enjoyed the fresh air and seeing outside. And now he wants to walk the halls. That will take a little time but he managed some steps by himself tonight. _

_He wants out of here and I don't blame him but that won't happen for a while. They're going to start tapering the steroids and see how his stomach reacts. We need the GVHD to stay at bay until his own immune system starts working. _

_Day 21 will be the biopsy. I know you have a better rapport with the man upstairs. Neal needs to be 100 percent donor cells and no blasts. _

_After that, if his gut continues to cooperate they'll consider letting us out of here. He's still not eating or drinking and they're ok with that for the moment but he will have to take all his meds orally before we can leave. _

_He's sleeping right now and they just hooked him up to his night feeds. _

_Oh, he only needed platelets today. His red and white cells are holding and that's good. The platelets are normally the last to grow and they're keeping him at a higher threshold because of his stomach. _

_I talked to Jimmy's mom today. He's doing better but they felt her husband should be here. Probably not a good sign but she was staying optimistic. _

_Not much else to say...tomorrow is day 15 and things are looking up. _

_Love and miss you so much. _

* * *

Peter closed the laptop and placed an X on day 14.

"Peter?"

"I thought you were asleep" the agent said as he neared the bed.

"Are you feeling ok?" He felt Neal's forehead but it was cool.

"I want to get out of bed."

"You can't. It's too hard with the feeds going. You can sit up." Peter raised the bed up. "Do you want to watch TV?"

"No."

"Read?"

Neal shook his head.

"We can sit here in silence" Peter retorted, eliciting a small smile from Neal.

"Can you get my sketch pad?"

Peter found it in Neal's suitcase and brought it over, along with a couple of pencils.

"Must be a good sign if you feel like drawing" Peter said.

"Just bored" Neal admitted with a deep breath.

"I know. Me too." Peter grabbed the remote and turned the TV on, flipping stations until he found the Yankee's game.

"Peter I guess I really haven't said it but thank you..." Neal chuckled. "You know this goes above and beyond friendship, right?"

It was Peter's turn to shrug. "We're partners. That trumps friendship in my book."

Neal watched him until Peter looked away embarrassed, forcing his attention back to the game.

"I can live with that" Neal whispered as he started to draw.


	9. Chapter 9

Balancing coffee, a half-eaten muffin and a new crossword puzzle book in one hand, Peter carefully pushed the door with his foot as he entered the transplant ward.

Immediately he sensed something was wrong.

He took two steps towards Neal's room when he heard his name being called.

He turned with trepidation as the pretty blonde nurse headed his way.

"What's wrong with Neal?"

"I was about to call you" they said in unison.

"He's ok" she assured him with a weary smile. "Jimmy died today and Neal took it hard. He pulled out everything and tried to leave."

"Is he insane?" Peter mumbled as he glanced towards Neal's room. "I swear I'm going to handcuff him to the bed."

Peter turned but she stopped him with her hand.

"They took him down to surgery to reinsert the central line."

Peter looked away, wiping his face with his free hand. "Is that dangerous with his low blood counts?"

"They had no choice. He needs the line. I'll check on him in a few minutes and update you." She got called away and Peter stood there silently, feeling guilty for going back to the apartment. He tossed the muffin and coffee in the garbage before entering Neal's room.

It was eerily silent and his thoughts drifted to Jimmy's mother and the pain she must be feeling.

"Damn you Neal" he whispered as he stared at the empty bed. Tears welled up in his eyes and he wiped away the few that managed to escape.

Needing a comforting voice, he took out his phone and dialed Elizabeth.

* * *

Peter paced. They had brought Neal back nearly three hours ago and he was still sleeping. They didn't believe Neal would have any complications but he was running a low grade fever and they had him on antibiotics to combat any possible infections.

Neal stirred with a small groan. Peter rushed to the bed as Neal thrashed around.

"Take it easy." Peter placed a calming hand on Neal's chest.

"Peter?" Neal opened his eyes, trying to focus.

"Neal, what were you thinking?" Peter asked as he pulled a chair closer.

"Can't stay here" Neal mumbled as he attempted to sit up. "Help me" he pleaded, swinging his legs off the bed.

"You can go to the sofa and that's it." Peter helped him down. "Can you walk?"

Neal nodded but his legs were still rubbery and Peter supported him most of the way. "Now answer me" Peter ordered as he sat down beside his partner. "What possessed you to do that?"

Neal lowered his head as he clasped his hands together, stalling for time.

"Neal?" Peter prompted impatiently.

"I don't want to die in here" Neal said evenly as he stole a sideways glance.

"Neal! Come on. Look at me." They shifted to mirror positions, each with one bended leg on the sofa and the other dangling to the floor. Peter leaned forward, bumping knees in the process. "You're not going to die." Peter cupped Neal's neck and forced him closer. "Your doctor came in while you were asleep. Your biopsy came back one hundred percent donor. The transplant was successful and you will leave this place. Tell me you believe that."

Neal tried to pull away but Peter wouldn't let him.

"Tell me you believe that" Peter repeated a little more forcibly.

"I can't." Neal closed his eyes.

"Neal." Peter hooked his arm around Neal's shoulders and reeled him in. He could feel Neal tense up but he didn't fight Peter's embrace and finally he rested his head on Peter's shoulder.

"Neal, my gut is never wrong and it's telling me a year from now we'll be drinking some of that fancy wine you like and reminiscing about these days." Peter's hand settled on his friend's head. "You don't have to believe right now. But you can't give up or do something stupid like today. OK?"

Neal didn't answer but he emitted a small sigh as his arms wrapped around Peter and he relaxed against the agent.

Peter smiled. He could be that anchor as long as Neal needed him to be.

After several minutes Neal's grip loosened as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Hey Hon. _

_Lot's of new information since I talked to you earlier. _

_I saw Neal's doctor twice today. The results of the biopsy were perfect. He's a 100 percent donor and no blasts. For day 23 his blood counts are good and his stomach has been behaving. They started tapering the steroids and so far so good. _

_On the flip side, his liver numbers have climbed and that's due to the TPN he's on at night. He needs to start eating but he says he's not hungry or nothing tastes right. I got him to eat two pieces of chocolate today. I guess it's a start. _

_He's still running a fever but the doctor doesn't seem overly concerned. They have him on antibiotics and if it doesn't go away in a day or two they will do a full body scan. Because of the fever, he can't go out in the halls but he did some walking in the room. _

_El, he doesn't think he's going to survive this. I've never known Neal to have a defeatist attitude and it's hard to see him like this. He fell asleep in my arms tonight (stop smiling). _

_I voiced my concerns to the doctor about Neal's behavior and he said there's no right or wrong way for a patient to get through this. _

_He walked in when Neal was drooling on my shoulder but it didn't faze him. Nothing seems to. _

_I asked about discharge and he said if things stay on the current course, maybe a couple of weeks. Still seems too far away but at least it's in the discussion. We both agree that Neal will do better in the apartment. _

_I didn't see Jimmy's mother today. I didn't want to leave Neal alone. Everyone on the floor took it real hard. _

_Need to get Neal in bed so I can have my sofa back. _

_Love and miss you. _

* * *

Peter stared out the window, bored out of his mind. Neal's fever had broken during the night but he didn't have a lot of energy and had spent most of the morning quietly staring at his computer.

"El" Peter whispered in shock as he saw his wife walk through the doors and approach the nurse's desk. He glanced back but Neal wasn't paying attention and didn't seem to notice when Peter walked out.

"El, what are you doing here?" Peter rushed to his wife.

"Hey hon." She briefly hugged him. "I brought lunch for the families and staff." She smiled. "I thought it might help lift spirits." Behind them, several helpers wheeled trays of food through the halls.

"You're incredible" Peter remarked before kissing her. He pulled away and sniffed the air. "Smells good."

"I made you something special but I left it at the apartment."

"El, I can't..."

"Yes, you can. I'll stay with Neal."

"I'm not sure he'll agree." Peter shrugged as he glanced over his shoulder at Neal's room.

"Don't give him a choice. Besides I made him lunch..."

"Good luck" Peter muttered with a shake of his head. "He didn't touch his breakfast."

"Peter, go." She pointed towards the door. "Enjoy your lunch and relax for a while. I'll call you if we need you."

Elizabeth watched her husband leave and then neared Neal's room, stopping to put on a mask and gloves. She opened the door slowly.

"Hey Neal" she quietly greeted as the ex-con looked up, startled.

"Elizabeth" he whispered as he pulled his robe tighter. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought lunch for everyone" she answered, walking closer. "And I sent Peter back to the apartment so he can eat." She continued to stare at Neal, shocked by his appearance.

"Unrecognizable?" he suggested with a weary smile.

"No." Elizabeth managed her own smile.

"Don't lie..."

"I'm not. You look like you've been through hell and survived. How are you feeling today?"

"Better than yesterday" he replied. "What's in the bag?"

"Lunch. Are you hungry?"

He shook his head.

"Well, you need to start eating. I made several things. Maybe something will appeal to you." She started taking containers out of the bag.

"Elizabeth, can you do me a favor?"

She looked up with a nod. "Name it."

"Can you get rid of this?" He pointed to his unibrow.

She tried in vain to stifle her laugh. "Peter mentioned the medicine was causing hair growth.

"I have hair growing in places I didn't know it could grow."

"Make you a deal. Eat some lunch and we'll see what we can do."

Reluctantly, Neal nodded.

* * *

Peter wasn't sure what to expect when he got back but he was feeling much better after a good lunch and a short nap in a real bed.

"Hon" he whispered as he entered. Neal was sleeping on one end of the sofa while Elizabeth was at the other end, reading a book.

She looked up and smiled.

Peter motioned outward and she followed him into the halls.

"How'd it go?"

"Fine" she answered. "I got him to eat two chicken wings, a piece of bread and two cookies. And I did some grooming for him." Elizabeth pointed to her forehead with a shrug.

"I have one amazing wife" Peter said as he hugged her.

"And from what I've been hearing, I have an amazing husband" she countered with a step back. "All the nurses talk very highly of you. Should I be jealous?"

"Not a chance." Peter sighed. "What's your impression of Neal?"

Elizabeth briefly looked away. "He's weak" she admitted. "Fragile is the best word I can think of. We tried to play Scrabble and he couldn't concentrate. Gave up and went to sleep."

Peter nodded knowingly. "I spend most of my time trying to keep his spirits up." He glanced at his watch. "You should go before it gets too late."

They walked back in and Elizabeth gathered her stuff.

"Call me when you get home" Peter whispered and watched longingly as she left the floor.

He turned to his sleeping friend and knelt down.

"Neal." He gently shook him. "Time to get up."

"Go away" Neal muttered as he pushed Peter's hand.

"No. Keep sleeping now and we'll both be up all night. Let's go."

Neal finally gave up and slowly sat, glaring at Peter. "Time moves faster if I sleep."

"Not really" Peter remarked. "But you haven't walked at all today. Here or the hallways?"

"Third choice" Neal muttered as he slowly slid down. "Back to sleep..."

"Not happening." Peter forced him to his feet. "Let's go out there." He found Neal's mask and handed it to him. "Put it on!"

A few minutes later they were in the halls as Neal slowly walked his lap.

"I hear we may get a day pass out of here soon. How does that sound?" Neal ignored Peter and kept moving.

Peter stepped in front of him, forcing Neal to stop walking.

"You're getting out of here Neal. If I need to say that every hour I will. Eventually you will believe me." Neal pushed by him.

Peter caught up and silently they finished the lap.


	10. Chapter 10

"El, are you home?" Peter bent down as Satch came running over. "I've missed you so much" Peter said as the dog licked his face. He sat on the floor and buried his face in the dog's fur as a few shuddering breaths racked his body.

"Peter what are you doing here? How's Neal?"

"He's ok" Peter managed to whisper as his voice cracked. Elizabeth lowered herself to the floor and pulled her husband close.

"Talk to me" Elizabeth gently demanded when Peter pulled away.

"There's nothing I can do to help him..."

"That's not true" Elizabeth remarked as she took her husband's hand. "Just being there helps him."

"Really?" Peter questioned as he continued to rub the dog's stomach. "I've been cooped up with him for 55 days and every time they talk discharge, something happens. And Neal just gets more despondent. He doesn't think he's leaving there and maybe he's right."

"Peter!" Elizabeth squeezed his hand. "Don't you start. We both know he's going to be ok."

"Do we?" Peter stood with a groan and walked to the kitchen with Satchmo trailing behind him. He took out a beer and tossed the dog a treat.

"Peter, it's not like you to quit..."

"I didn't quit" Peter said loudly as he slammed the beer can on the counter. "It's this stupid BK virus. When he's not doubled over in pain he's peeing blood or worse blood clots. They had to start him on a morphine pump again and today he told me..." Peter paused as he eyed his wife. "He told me he wants to die."

"Peter, he doesn't mean it. It's the pain talking and you know it."

"I don't know anything anymore." Peter shrugged. "Something else happened."

"OK" Elizabeth said cautiously, inwardly bracing herself.

Peter chuckled. "I lost it. I started yelling and tossing things and it scared us both. El, it was Neal who suggested I take a break and he's right."

"Peter..."

"Don't." He pushed her hand away, grabbed his beer and walked out. "I tried" Peter continued as he plopped himself on the sofa. "I was the cheerleader and I did everything I could but nothing helped. I can't just sit there and watch him suffer anymore."

Elizabeth sat beside Peter and took his hand, holding it tight. "You have no choice" she said after a few minutes of silence. "Neal needs you there and you need it too. Peter you'll never forgive yourself if he dies and you're not with him." Peter leaned over and rested his head on Elizabeth's shoulder. "Can I have one night here?" he asked in a quiet, unsure voice.

"I'll call Mozzie and ask him to stay with Neal for a couple of days. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good" Peter murmured as he shut his eyes.

* * *

"What are you doing here?" It was close to midnight and Neal had already resigned himself to the fact that he'd be spending a few days alone…at least until Peter calmed down.

"Good to see you too" Mozzie retorted as his eyes darted around the small room, noting it hadn't changed much since his last visit.

Neal didn't look as bad as he had expected.

"Did Peter send you?"

"Actually, Mrs. Suit. What did you do to Peter?"

"Who said I did anything?" Neal swung his legs off the bed and carefully stood. His mobility had improved and for the most part he felt ok until the stomach pains hit.

"I think I mentioned I wanted to die earlier today and he went a little crazy." Neal smiled weakly as he shrugged his shoulders. "A bit of an over reaction if you ask me."

"I'm not" Mozzie remarked evenly.

Neal's eyes narrowed. "Since when do you take his side?"

"Neal, there are no sides this time. You do realize if it wasn't for Peter, you'd be going through this alone."

"I know." Neal's shoulders sagged as he sat and reached for Peter's calendar. "I've been in here for almost two months. I'm not sure how much longer I can take this."

"And Peter has been with you the whole time."

"OK I get it." Neal raised his hands in defeat. "Since when did you become his champion?"

Mozzie sat down opposite his friend and removed his mask with a glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was near the room.

"Elizabeth has been keeping me updated on your progress and though she leaves a lot out I can piece it together. I couldn't do what Peter has been doing…and I'm grateful that he has been here." Mozzie sighed as he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Please don't ever repeat that. The suit and I have to keep our working relationship as is."

"He wouldn't believe me if I did" Neal retorted.

"How do you feel?"

"I'm going stir crazy. I just want to go outside…" Neal shook his head as he fiddled with the calendar. "Some days this feels like the ultimate con. Just out of reach and I can't help but wonder if it will ever happen."

"That kind of talk isn't you."

"And now you sound like Peter. Come here." Neal motioned towards the window. "Four windows down. Man in his forties sent to ICU. I hear he's still fighting. Three window downs, a young woman in her twenties going through her second transplant for leukemia. Two windows down, a mother of three died two days after transplant from multiple organ failure. She had the same disease I do. They brought her kids here to say goodbye. Can you imagine what that was like?" Neal paused and glanced towards his friend but Mozzie wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Next door, a young guy went outpatient only twenty-five days after transplant. So I guess there are happy endings." Neal shook his head. "Do you really think I'm going to be the same person?"

"I think you will be once you get out of here. Is this how you talk with Peter?"

Neal shook his head as he slowly made his way back to bed.

"How'd I get so lucky?"

"Peter already knows all this. Besides would you'd rather I fall asleep in your arms?"

"You fell asleep..." Mozzie squirmed under Neal's scrutiny.

"I didn't think so. I'm going to sleep. You better hope my bladder cooperates."

"And if it doesn't?" Mozzie asked reluctantly.

"You'll be wishing you brought a good pair of ear plugs."

"Oh." Mozzie sank into the sofa.

* * *

Elizabeth eyed her husband as he slept peacefully in their bed. He hadn't said much the two days he'd been home but she knew the sleep and home cooked food had helped immensely. He hadn't talked to Neal but he called the hospital frequently to check up on him and Elizabeth had been texting with Mozzie the whole time.

She knew Neal was about the same and Mozzie was going crazy. At one point he had called Peter a saint and begged that she kept that to herself. Elizabeth heard her phone and grabbed it before Peter woke up.

"Mozzie what is it?"

_Peter needs to get here_.

"What's wrong?" Elizabeth went downstairs.

_He's in the bathroom and moaning in pain. He asked for Peter. _

"Mozzie, I need you to be honest with me. Is this an emergency or the same issue he's been fighting?"

There was a pause on the other end.

_The same. I don't know how to handle it. _

"Mozzie, get the nurse."

She heard him groan. "Mozzie you can do this. I promise Peter will be back in the morning." The line went dead and Elizabeth took a deep breath, hoping she did the right thing. She went upstairs and found Peter still sleeping with Satchmo next to him, on her side of the bed.

"Sorry bud, you'll have to share him tonight." She nudged the dog out of the way and took her rightful place. "I've missed this" she whispered as she rested her head on his chest.

* * *

Peter quietly walked into Neal's room.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" Peter sat on the edge of the bed.

Neal twisted around until he was lying on his back.

"Missed you" he admitted with a weak smile.

"I heard it was a rough night. Where's Mozzie?"

"I set him free" Neal retorted. "He was paler than I was."

Peter smiled knowingly. "It's not easy to sit by and watch you suffer."

"It's not easy being the one suffering" Neal countered.

"True." Peter rested his hand on Neal's shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

"Can you sit up? We need to talk." Neal eyed him anxiously.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing" Peter reassured him as he adjusted the bed and waited for Neal to get comfortable.

"I had a long talk with your doctor this morning. And we both agree you need to get out of here. We both do."

"No argument from me" Neal retorted, feeling a little hopeful.

"There are two things keeping you here" Peter continued, noting the look of despair that crossed Neal's face. "Hey, both are doable."

Neal looked away with a shake of his head until Peter grabbed his shoulders and forced him to make eye contact.

"They see improvement in the virus. It will be slow going because they can't lower your rejection medication any further without the GVHD coming back."

"What does that mean?"

"If you can handle the pain they're fine with you being at the apartment. We'll have pain pills but the relief won't be immediate like now." Peter pointed to the pain pump.

"What else?" Neal asked hesitantly.

"You need to start eating and drinking…"

"I'm trying…"

"Neal, it's not a matter of trying. Your liver is having issues and they want you off the TPN starting today. You need to eat whether you want to or not."

Neal sighed.

"I'm not hungry."

"No excuses" Peter said strongly. "Elizabeth is fine with cooking and bringing over meals but I can't fight you every time. They will give us strict guidelines on how much you should be eating and drinking and we need to follow it."

"What else?"

"That's it." Peter clapped him on the shoulder. "Your blood counts are good…" he shrugged. "I'll have my first class tomorrow on cleaning your central line and then we can bolt…if you're ready."

"More than ready" Neal said with a deep sigh. "Can we leave today? I'm worried something will happen…"

"Don't!" Peter shushed him with a finger. "Not one more negative word out of you, got it?"

"Peter, you ok?"

The agent nodded with a shrug. "Sorry about the other day. Kind of lost it there."

"Kind of?" Neal smiled.

"Don't push it." Peter got off the bed. "I'm assuming you didn't exercise when Mozzie was here."

"We played video games."

"Great" Peter remarked with a roll of his eyes. "We'll forgo the finger exercises today. Does your stomach feel ok?"  
Neal nodded.

"How about two laps before rounds?"

"Dictator" Neal muttered as he got out of bed and reached for his robe.

"Peter!"

"Yeah?" The agent turned and faced his friend.

"Thanks for coming back."

Peter smiled. "Was there ever a doubt? Let's go." He opened the door and they both walked out.


	11. Chapter 11

"Neal, I'm not playing games. Eat your lunch." Neal ignored the tray of food and continued to draw in an angry manner; dark, faceless creations that unnerved Peter. After two days of endless drawings, Peter's mood was starting to match his partner's.

"I'm sorry. Line flushing wasn't taught at Quantico." Peter glanced at his watch, wondering where Elizabeth was. She was supposed to take the class with him because Peter wasn't comfortable with what they were asking him to do.

Neal blamed him for the delay. Two extra days inpatient and Neal was fighting back the only way he knew how, by refusing to eat.

"If you don't eat they will discharge you with the night feeds and it will probably take me days to learn how to connect the bags."

The pencil stopped in mid stroke and Neal eyed the agent. "You wouldn't?"

"Keep pushing and I will." Peter glared back.

"Elizabeth will be here soon and hopefully we'll be out of here before dinner. But only if you start eating."

With an exaggerated sigh, Neal picked up his fork and stabbed the piece of meat. He bit off a minute amount and took his time chewing.

Peter shook his head and walked out.

"Peter, sorry I'm late." Elizabeth rushed over. "How's Neal today?"

"The same as yesterday" Peter muttered evenly with a deep breath. "Trying my patience and I have no patience left to deal with him."

"Calm down." Elizabeth reached up and kissed his cheek. "Let's get his over with and get Neal to the apartment. It will be the best remedy for both of you."

* * *

It was late afternoon when they were officially discharged. Most of their stuff was already at the apartment so it didn't take long to pack up the remaining items and put them in the car. Neal had insisted on walking the two blocks to the apartment. He managed to exit the hospital on his own two feet, though it was slow going and Peter wasn't sure he was going to make it.

The rest of the way Peter pushed him in the wheelchair.

"Peter, can we stop?" Halfway there Neal eyed a small pond.

"Neal, Elizabeth is waiting for us. Besides it's a little cold out here."

Neal turned his head and pulled the mask away. "Peter, you have me bundled up, I think I'll be ok. Just for a few minutes."

Peter gave in and quickly called Elizabeth before pushing Neal towards the pond. He settled the wheelchair near a bench.

"I didn't think I'd feel fresh air again" Neal admitted as he savored the cold wind against his face.

"I know." Peter sat on the bench and eyed a family of geese swimming in the pond.

"Neal, you know there's a good chance you'll be readmitted at least once."

Neal shrugged. He knew the drill. As long as he had the central line, any temperature above 100 was an automatic pass back to the hospital.

"Do we have to discuss this now?"

"No." Peter leaned over and tightened the blankets around his partner. "But you do need to be honest with me if you're not feeling well."

"Peter, I heard you and Elizabeth talking. You plan to take my temperature while I'm sleeping because you think I'll rig the oral thermometer."

Peter smiled. "I have no doubt you know how."

"I do" Neal admitted with a shrug. "Doesn't mean I'll do it."

"Good to know." Peter shuddered as he stood. "Let's go. We'll come back tomorrow if it's warmer." He didn't give Neal a chance to protest as he unlocked the wheels and started pushing.

* * *

"Neal are you ok?" Peter paced past the closed bathroom door as he listened to his friend's moans.

"I'm fine. Don't come in." Peter removed his hand from the doorknob and continued to pace. Dinner was over and Elizabeth had gone home after overseeing Peter's first line flushing.

The agent had anticipated a quiet evening in the apartment but then the pain had started and Neal had rushed to the bathroom.

Neal moaned louder.

"Neal I'm coming in."

"No."

"Fine" Peter muttered as he walked back to the living room and turned the TV louder, hoping to drown out his partner.

Fifteen minutes later, Neal grew quiet and Peter worried more. He approached the bathroom door.

"Neal, did it pass?"

Silence greeted his question.

"Neal, answer me or I'm coming in."

Still no answer so Peter opened the door. Neal was hunched over with his forehead pressed to his legs, breathing heavily.

"Hey." Peter lowered himself to the floor. "Neal, are you ok?"

"It's passed" Neal whispered between breaths.

Peter stood and grabbed a towel, wetting a corner of it.

"Can you look at me?" Peter knelt down and gently lifted Neal's head. He took the towel and wiped Neal's tear streaked face along with his runny nose.

"How's the pain?"

"A little better" Neal answered as he clutched at his middle. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be ok."

Peter glanced at his watch and it was too soon for another pain pill. "I can give you Tylenol if you want."

Neal shook his head no.

"Come out when you're able." Peter walked out, closing the door behind him.

Twenty minutes later Neal approached the sofa and sat down next to Peter.

He pulled up his legs and leaned over, resting his head against Peter's shoulder.

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired." Neal sighed deeply.

"We can call it a night" Peter suggested.

"Can I stay here?" Neal burrowed a little deeper.

"Missing the security of the hospital, aren't you?"

Neal didn't answer. "Neal if anything happens we're less than five minutes away."

Neal grunted a response.

"You can stay here" Peter mumbled as he wrapped his arm around Neal and returned his attention to the TV.

* * *

The sun was shining brightly when Peter woke up. The TV was still on and Neal was still glued to him but at some point the ex-con had retrieved a blanket and pillow.

"You are a true enigma" Peter whispered as he gently touched Neal's forehead. "You wanted out so badly yet you're scared to be here."

Neal groaned as he turned and faced upward, with his eyes slowly opening. It took a few minutes for him to get his bearings. A small smile crossed his face.

"I'm guessing we passed over the friendship line again."

Peter shook his head. "We got rid of that line long ago. How are you feeling?"

Neal shrugged. "OK. Can I take a bath?"

Neal had been talking about a real bath for as long as Peter could remember. He couldn't take shower with the central line but a bath was doable as long as they covered his line and he was careful.

Peter nodded as he wriggled free. "Let's get half your pills down now and the rest after your bath." He walked into the kitchen where all the pills were carefully labeled on the table. Twenty-two in all and a few had to be taken twice a day.

Neal trailed after him, grimacing when he saw all the medication.

"I'll make the protein shakes." Elizabeth had bought everything they would need and the shakes were not only healthy but they had a lot of calories, something both of them were in need of.

"Drink up" Peter said as he handed a glass to his partner. Neal had arranged the pills by size and he started with the larger ones, each going down with a sip of the shake. After number 10 he stopped, groaning slightly.

"Are you going to be sick?"

Neal put his head down and willed his stomach to settle; otherwise they would have to start all over again.

"I'm ok" he muttered a few minutes later.

"We'll leave the rest for later." Peter quickly cleaned up.

* * *

_Good morning El. _

_First night away from the hospital went ok. Neal never left my side. He won't admit it but he's nervous about being out of the hospital. I am too... I'd rather go after a bad guy then be responsible for someone's health. He got half the pills down and right now he's taking a bath. Singing in the bath I should say. _

_He took a good look at himself in the mirror today. He hasn't been on a scale but I would guess he's twenty pounds lighter than he was before transplant. I asked Jones to come by and pick up my free weights. I'll ask the doctor first but I think it will be ok for Neal to do a little light lifting. _

_He wants to start walking also. I think that's a little too much but we'll take the chair with us. _

_Tomorrow will be our first clinic day. Neal has his infusion and I hear that could take up to eight hours. I'm guessing he'll also need platelets. _

_If you're free, come by for lunch. _

_I'll call you later. Neal stopped singing so I'm guessing he's done. _

_Love ya. _

* * *

Neal slept peacefully in bed; the bath had worn him out and it didn't take much encouragement from Peter to get him to take a nap. That was five hours ago and Neal was still sleeping.

Peter sat at the desk emailing Diana about a new case his group was pursuing.

Now that they were out of the hospital Peter was paying more attention to what was going on at work; hopeful that he might be back sooner than later.

"Peter?"  
The agent turned.

"I don't feel good."

Peter sprang to his feet. He felt Neal's forehead, dismayed that he was warm.

He found the thermometer in the bathroom and stuck it in Neal's mouth.

"99.8" he muttered with a deep sigh. One day out and they were so close to being readmitted.

"Take this." He handed Neal a Tylenol and glass of water. "Hopefully this does the trick." Neal took the pill, refusing to meet Peter's gaze. "Get some more rest, I'll stay with you."

Neal buried himself under the blankets as Peter sat down to keep watch, both hoping the fever didn't go higher.


	12. Chapter 12

After three days of flirting with a fever, the doctors decided to readmit Neal to the bone marrow floor. Surprisingly Neal was ok with it. Peter, on the other hand, was disappointed though he knew it was the best thing for his friend.

One day in and numerous tests and they hadn't found anything that was causing the fever and the subsequent higher white count. The bleeding and pain had increased in the past day and the doctors thought that could be the cause.

Neal had slept most of the day, either from boredom or pain or maybe both. He refused the pain pump but they were giving him around the clock pills and that seemed to take the edge off of the pain.

"Peter."

The agent turned and neared the bed. "Do you want to get out of bed?"

Neal nodded. He was back to two poles and several IV's and he wasn't feeling well enough to push everything and stay upright. Peter helped him sit up and then moved the poles as Neal carefully stood, swaying slightly before gaining his balance.

He walked the few steps to the chair with Peter following closely dragging both poles.

"Better?" Peter asked once Neal was seated.

He nodded as Peter moved the poles behind the chair.

"How long do you think we're in?"

Peter shrugged. "You have to be fever free for twenty-four hours before they'll release you. How are you feeling? Is the pain ok?"

"Just tired" Neal admitted as he grabbed his pad from the table. "Well, I made it for three days..." Neal paused as he glanced at Peter. "Sorry. I know you didn't want to come back."

"It's not your fault" Peter reassured him as he plopped down on the sofa. "I was just hoping to finally use the sofa bed."

Peter chuckled as Neal refused to meet his gaze; embarrassed that he wouldn't sleep in the bedroom and had spent the last three nights sleeping on the sofa using Peter as a pillow.

"Elizabeth is going to be here shortly. Are you ok with that?"

"I don't think I can be my charming self…"

"No one expects you too" Peter chimed in as he stood and glanced out the window. "Speaking of…Neal she brought June with her." He eyed his friend. "Neal if you're not up to this, I can ask them to leave. They'll understand."

"I'd like to see June" he admitted with a genuine smile. "But not for too long" he added as Peter tossed him his robe.

"Understood" Peter said as he walked out to greet the ladies.

* * *

June walked in, poker face in place and smiled. She thought she knew what to expect having seen the changes in her granddaughter after her kidney transplant but she was surprised at Neal's appearance. She focused on his eyes, still piercing blue despite everything he'd been through and not the rest; with time that would take care of itself. Shoving the mask in her purse she neared her tenant.

"Don't get up" she said sternly when he tried to rise.

"How are you?" She sat on the arm of the chair and engulfed the ex-con in a warm embrace. He settled in her arms with a contented sigh, smelling the scent of her favorite perfume.

"I've been better" Neal replied with a weary smile. He pulled away and self consciously covered himself with his robe.

"Where's Peter?"

"He and Elizabeth went to the cafeteria to get dinner." She stood. "So this is where you've spent the past 70 days." Her eyes took in the small room.

"Give or take a few days" Neal remarked. "Not exactly the accommodations I've become accustomed to in the last two years."

"You'll be there soon enough." June sat opposite Neal and took his hands in hers. "I'm having your apartment cleaned before you return."

"If I return" Neal corrected with a small shrug.

"I'm going to ignore that" June said evenly, glaring at the ex-con.

"June, I'm sorry." Neal briefly looked away. "Peter hates my negativity but he doesn't understand."

"I think he does..."

"No...He can't. No one can unless you go through this."

"Maybe" June put forth with a gentle squeeze of his hands. "You can talk to me if you want."

Neal sighed deeply. "I've spent years creating who I am and this..." he pulled his hands free. "This...this ..." Neal lowered his head, unable or unwilling to go on.

"Neal, look at me." June reached over and cupped his chin. "You've created an image for yourself and this has destroyed it, hasn't it?"

Neal nodded.

"You are so wrong" June said angrily. "You are who you are Neal Caffrey and this won't change you."

"But it has" Neal insisted.

"How? Neal, how has this changed you? And don't tell me you look different."

His eyes narrowed in concentration and June quietly watched him, silently hoping that he'd confide in her. He clenched his jaw tightly and his cheeks puffed out more, still swollen from the steroids she assumed he was taking.

"June you know me better than most. You know the life a con lives. We have our ways to get what we want or need."

"Go on" June encouraged when Neal paused.

"I haven't depended on anyone since I was a small boy…I wasn't happy when I left NY but I knew I'd be ok and start over somewhere." He shrugged and shifted restlessly in the chair, obviously stalling for time. "It's our nature to be loners, always ready to hit the road if needed. But then this happened." He gestured toward himself.

"You got sick and you needed help. Neal there's nothing wrong with that."

"From your perspective, maybe."

She raised a questioning eyebrow, closely watching his expression.

It's not that I needed help" he explained. "It's how depended I've become, especially with Peter. He's made the decisions from the beginning and I've allowed it and more importantly I'm ok with it."

"Neal, I'm an old woman and I've seen a lot. Do you trust me?"

"As much as I trust anyone" Neal answered with a shrug.

"Fair enough" June countered as she stood and walked over to the window, watching a few patients walking the halls.

"If you've changed it's for the better. Going through this you'll find out who your friends are and who you can trust. Neal, don't over think this. Be grateful that you have Peter here and stop worrying about it."

"I am grateful" Neal whispered in a thick voice. "But it does feel like I'm losing a part of myself by allowing Peter in."

June lowered herself to the arm of the chair and placed an arm around Neal's shoulder, pulling him towards her. "You're not. I promise you that."

* * *

"I wonder why June is at the nurse's desk" Peter whispered to his wife as they entered the transplant ward. She noticed them and smiled.

"Neal is asleep" the older woman explained. "How was dinner?"

"Not bad, considering it was hospital food" Peter answered, holding up a bag. "Dinner for Neal since I'm assuming he didn't eat what they brought him."

"You assumed right. We talked for a bit and then he fell asleep."

"You talked?" Peter's voice sounded hopeful. "Did he say anything?"

June led them away from the nurses. "Peter, I've known a lot of Neal's in my time and they spend their whole lives looking for something that can't be found. Keep doing what you're doing. Neal might seem like he's pulling away or not talking but he's accepting what you're giving him."

Peter stared at her, utterly confused. "June what am I doing?" He glanced at his wife with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You've put your life on hold for him. You're there. Peter, slowly you're creating cracks in that wall he built up years ago." She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Just continue doing what you've done. In the meantime I'm going to borrow your wife for the rest of the evening."

She hooked her arm in Elizabeth's and guided her towards the exit.

"Wait, where are you going?" Peter followed.

"We're single women tonight. We're going to get a couple of drinks and see what happens." June winked at the look Peter gave her. "Don't worry. We'll be fine. I have my driver and Elizabeth will get home in one piece."

Elizabeth merely shrugged as June pulled her away. With a shake of his head Peter walked towards Neal's room.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when Neal stirred. Peter put away his phone, having just read a text from his wife. From the sound of it she had had more than a couple of drinks but she had fun and Peter quelled the feeling of jealousy that crept up, knowing his wife had made sacrifices also.

"Where's June?" Neal asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"She left hours ago" Peter answered as he sat on the sofa. "She took my wife drinking" he added, unable to hide his disappointment.

"Sorry" Neal mumbled. "I know you'd rather be there than here."

"I wish we both were there." He patted Neal's knee. "I'm going to warm up your dinner. Be back in a few."

An hour later, Neal had finished most of his sandwich and half his soup as Peter watched TV, neither man saying much.

A nurse had walked in and proclaimed Neal fever free but they wouldn't talk release until the pain dissipated somewhat and the bleeding lessened.

"June said she's getting my apartment cleaned for when I return. Peter, I'm not sure I'm ready to be alone...don't think I can clean the line on my own."

Peter eyed him. "Did she mention you'd be alone?"

"Not exactly" Neal said. "But I assumed if I'm going home, you'd be too."

Peter smiled. "Nice to know I'm wanted" he said with a little chuckle. "First idea was to have you stay at our place but it's going to cost too much to clean it the way the doctors want. Plus we'd have to get rid of Satch while you were there and neither one of us could do that."

"I don't want you to do that" Neal quickly chimed in. "I'll be fine at my place."

"You will" Peter agreed. "But you won't be alone. June will instruct her staff to stay away from the floor and she'll keep her dog away also. We'll have a couple of extra bedrooms to use if you'd prefer to be alone at night."

Neal looked away, eyes closed to keep the sudden moisture from escaping.

"Neal, what's wrong?" Peter muted the TV and anxiously watched his partner. "Neal Caffrey. Don't clam up on me again. Talk to me and that's an order."

One watery eye opened. "Is that my friend or my handler speaking?" he asked in an unsteady voice.

"It's whoever will make you talk" Peter answered in a stern voice. "Please" he added quietly.

Neal rubbed at his eyes, before wiping them on a sleeve. He took a couple of deep breaths and waited, knowing that Peter was watching him.

"You have no idea how hard this is for me."

"Neal, I see you daily. I know how much you're suffering."

"Not physically" Neal countered. "The pain I can handle. It's allowing you do this for me. It's wanting you to be here." He smiled, as a single tear escaped.

"No man is an island" Peter quipped brightly. "It's ok to need people when you're sick. Or anytime..."

"It's a new experience for me." Neal shrugged. "I'll never be able to repay you."

"Don't expect you too." Peter took Neal's tray and quickly deposited the remains in the garbage.

"Peter, I have to do something."

"You worry about getting better. We'll figure that out later, ok?"

Neal didn't respond.

"Are you tired?" Peter glanced at his watch. He hated how messed up day and night became in the hospital.

"Not really."

Peter started listing off the games they had and Neal said no to each.

"Peter I don't want to do anything. Just watch TV and I'll be fine." Of course that made Peter worry more but he turned the sound back on and went back to flipping stations.

Tired or not, it didn't take long for Neal to fall back to sleep. Peter covered him with a blanket, turned off the TV and then stretched out on the sofa, with a book in hand.


	13. Chapter 13

Day 100. Another milestone in the transplant journey and the day most doctors used as the barometer for going home. Neal wasn't at that point but Peter couldn't complain. Neal had been outpatient for nearly two weeks and overall feeling pretty good. They had finally gotten rid of the BK virus and with that, five less pills a day. Most important, his three month biopsy had come back one hundred percent donor cells.

He still wasn't eating a lot but he was maintaining his weight and getting enough calories that they no longer talked about the night feeds. He still weighed far less than before the transplant but they figured once his appetite was back the pounds would come.

At times Peter actually saw signs of the Neal he knew before this all started. They were too few and far between but after watching Neal go through this journey, he would celebrate the small victories that would crop up on the gloomiest of days.

They had planned on celebrating the day with a huge dinner but it would only be the three of them; June was out of town and Mozzie had a self-diagnosed case of the bubonic plague.

So Elizabeth was back at the apartment cooking and Peter was doing what Neal had requested; driving around town while Neal quietly stared out the window.

But Peter wasn't driving randomly and he wondered how long it would take for Neal to figure it out.

"Why are we driving towards the office?"

Not long at all Peter silently mused knowing Neal was watching him.

"We're not going to the office" Peter remarked and left it at that.

"So why are we going in that direction?"

Sighing Peter turned the corner and pulled over. "The office made something for you...for us...so we're meeting Diana and Jones at the park. Just for a few minutes..."

"No." Neal reached for the door and jumped out. Peter met him in no time. "Neal, get back in the car. Now."

"I don't want to see anyone." Neal batted away Peter's hand, swaying in the process.

"Take it easy." He grabbed Neal by the shoulders and gently pushed him back in. Peter knelt down, keeping a hand on Neal's arm.

"Neal, you look fine and they both know what you've been through. They just want to see you for a few minutes."

"Is that why you made me get dressed?"

Peter shrugged. Neal was wearing a newly bought pair of jeans, a sweatshirt and a jacket. And with the always present cap, he looked the best he had since the transplant started.

"I was just sick of seeing you in pajamas" Peter countered with a sly smile. "What do you say?"

Neal glanced away briefly. "Do we leave when I want to?"

Peter nodded.

"Fine. " Neal pulled his legs into the car.

"Thank you" Peter said as he drove away, eager to see his team.

* * *

Neal sat quietly listening to them chat, angry that Peter had insisted he wear his mask.

It was awkward at first, though they all tried to hide it behind pleasantries and small talk. But then the conversation turned to the current case and Peter was back in his element, animated and excited as Jones and Diana briefed him.

It was a cool and breezy day and Neal shivered slightly when the wind picked up.

"Are you cold?" Of course Peter noticed.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?" Peter started to take his jacket off.

"Peter" Neal warned. The conversation stopped.

Peter stared at his partner for a few minutes before putting his jacket back on.

"Boss, when are you coming back to work?" Diana asked, taking the focus off of Neal.

"As soon as I get released to come home" Neal answered for him.

Peter's eyes narrowed and he took a calming breath. "They'll do an immune study at six months" Peter explained. "Depending on what it shows, they may lift some of Neal's restrictions." Peter briefly glanced at Neal. "As for me, we really haven't discussed that yet. But it sounds like Neal is ready to get rid of me."

Neal stood with an exaggerated huff and walked off.

"Peter, is he ok?"

Peter shrugged as he watched Neal settle himself behind a tree.

"It's my fault" the agent admitted. "I didn't tell him about today and I don't think he was ready for you to see him."

"He doesn't look as bad as I expected" Jones put forth. "How is he really doing?"

"Compared to a few a weeks ago, he's doing great" Peter answered with a weary smile. "But every day is a struggle. We spend two hours every morning at the table while Neal takes his medication." Peter chuckled. "Half the pills make you nauseous and if he throws up, we have to start all over."

Peter glanced towards the tree to ensure himself that Neal didn't run off. Not that he had the strength to get far.

"Eating is another issue. Nothing tastes right and he really has to force himself to eat. Elizabeth has been experimenting with different spices and she's found some that Neal actually likes." He shrugged. "When I agreed to the deal, this wasn't something I ever fathomed we'd be going through together."

"Sounds rough" Diane quietly remarked. "Have you thought about coming back to work part time?"

"Honestly yes" Peter admitted. "But contrary to what you've just witnessed Neal doesn't feel well enough to be left alone." He shrugged. "Maybe when he gains some strength. I don't know." Peter rubbed his face.

"Anything we can do to help?" Peter glanced at Diana with a shake of his head. "Just concentrate on work. Thanks for this." He picked up the DVD they gave him.

"It's just in good fun" Jones warned as he stood. "Should we?" He pointed towards Neal.

"No. I'll call if anything changes." He watched them walk away and then approached Neal.

"Are you ok?" Peter knelt down in front of his partner. "I'm sorry I didn't warn you ahead of time" he added when Neal looked away. "Ready to go back?"

"Can we walk around a little?" Neal asked as he took Peter's hand and the agent hauled him to his feet.

"Are you up to it?"

"I think so. Do I need my mask?"

Peter shook his head no. Away from crowds it wasn't necessary and Neal stuffed it in his jacket pocket.

They didn't walk very far or fast as Neal shuffled along like an old man and after a block Peter steered them back to the car.

"I feel so old" Neal mumbled as he settled in the passenger seat. He eyed the DVD that Peter tossed in his lap. "What do you think is on it?" he asked holding it up.

"No clue. Guess we'll watch tonight and find out." Peter pulled out and then turned on some soft music. As he figured, Neal lasted less than five minutes before falling asleep.

* * *

"This isn't how we planned tonight" Elizabeth said as she snuggled next to her husband. Neal had slept since they returned from the park and Peter had worried, checking Neal's forehead frequently to see if he was running a fever.

"I don't think today was a good idea" Peter remarked as he watched Neal, curled up on the chair and snoring softly.

"He's just worn out from the fresh air. He'll be fine later." Elizabeth glanced at the clock and then scooted away from Peter. "I need to get going" she said as she picked up the paper plates and tossed them in the garbage. Peter followed.

"Thanks for dinner hon." He held her tight. "Maybe in a few weeks we'll be home for good" he said wistfully as Elizabeth put the leftovers in the fridge. "Make sure he eats tonight."

"I will." Peter held up his hand.

"Call me when you get home." She nodded, and kissed him once more before leaving.

* * *

It was just past midnight as they watched the DVD; a collection of good wishes and congratulations and a few bad imitations of both of them.

"I think Blake did a good you" Peter said, chuckling.

"And Diana was perfect as you" Neal countered. "Hands on hips and glaring..." Neal smiled as he finished up his dinner.

"This was good. Remind me to call Elizabeth tomorrow to thank her."

Peter didn't respond as he started the DVD up again and stared longingly at his team and the job he missed more than he was willing to admit.

"Peter, I meant what I said earlier. You've given up enough of your life for me. Once I can leave here, you should go back to work."

Peter glanced his way. "I think it's too early to be talking about this."

"I don't. Peter I'll be ok and I can call you if I need you. Besides, I'm sure I can get Mozzie to keep me company during the day."

"And that's supposed to ease my mind?" Peter rolled his eyes, thinking of the influence Mozzie could have over Neal.

"Maybe I can go back part time" Peter suggested as he closed up the laptop. "You'll need to come back here once a week..."

"Can't cut the cord, can you?"

Peter laughed as he stood. "Come on. Down the pills so we can go to sleep."

"I'm not tired..."

"OK, take them so I can go to sleep." Peter laid out the six nightly pills and poured a glass of water.

Neal grumbled as he sat down and picked up the first one, staring at it. "They should cover these in chocolate."

"Stop stalling."

Neal popped the first one in his mouth and took a long swig of water. This was the worst one and he took a couple of deep breaths, trying to keep the pill down.

"Are you ok?"

"I hate this" Neal muttered as he rested his head on his forearm and waited for his stomach to settle or the pill to come up, not caring which came first. He felt Peter's hand on his head and he sighed, grateful that Peter was there.

Ten minutes passed and finally Neal lifted his head. "I'm ok" he whispered and then took the rest. There were fewer pills at night so the routine was faster, though never easy on either of them.

Peter took out the pie that Elizabeth had baked. "Do you want a little piece before bed?"  
Neal nodded so Peter cut off two small slivers and handed one to his partner.

"This is good" Neal said with his mouth full as the pie quickly got rid of the medicine taste. They finished up the pie and headed to bed, with Neal still complaining that he wasn't tired.

* * *

The nights were the worse. Neal stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep or get his mind to turn off. He thought about the transplant, everything that had taken place in the past three months and...No matter how much he tried, he couldn't think past the present.

Finally he got up and walked into the living room. He found his laptop.

"Can't sleep?"

"Sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't." Peter turned the small lamp on. "What's wrong?"

Neal shrugged his shoulders.

"Neal, talk to me." Peter sat up and grabbed his robe. "Do you feel ok?"

Neal settled in the chair with his legs drawn up, resting his chin against his knees. "I'm fine" Neal answered to ease Peter's mind. "I just couldn't sleep and I was thinking too much. Can we watch TV?" he asked suddenly as he grabbed the remote off of the table.

"Neal." Peter got up and snatched the remote away. "You can watch after you talk to me. What were you thinking about?" Peter quickly pushed the bed back in and tossed the cushions on turning his bed back into a sofa.

It didn't take long for Neal to saunter over and sit down next to the agent. Peter hid his smile as waited.

"I have trouble seeing my future" Neal admitted as he tightly crossed his arms against his chest.

"Cold?"

Neal nodded and didn't complain when Peter draped a blanket over him.

"Do you remember when you didn't think you'd leave the hospital?

Neal nodded again.

"And you did. Neal I know it's a cliché but one day at a time is apropos here. You get better; you finish your sentence and then the rest..." Peter shrugged. "You become a free man and you decide your own future."

"You make it sound so simple."

"Because it is" Peter remarked as he turned the TV on, flipping until he found an old sitcom.

"Lay down." Peter stood and waited for Neal to stretch out on the sofa. He grabbed a pillow and blanket and settled himself in the recliner.

"Peter."

"Yeah?"

"I still think you should go back to work but the nights..."

"You won't be alone. I promise. Now go to sleep."

"Night Peter." Neal turned over and drifted off to sleep with the voices of Lucy and Ethel in the background.

Peter tossed a few time in the chair, trying in vain to get comfortable, longing for the comforts of his own bed. Once he knew Neal was asleep he turned the TV off and closed his eyes.


	14. Chapter 14

After four months of watching Neal go through the most horrific experience of his life, Peter still didn't understand him.

They were going home. More specifically Neal was going home. Peter wasn't sure where he would be but at least he could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Neal was feeling ok. His blood counts were good and his appetite was much better but he was still weak and didn't have much stamina. Appearance wise, he was pale and thin but his hair was growing back ever so slowly and occasionally he would sport that Caffrey smile that Peter never trusted but missed so much.

He wanted to go home yet he was scared; Peter understood that part but he was surprised to see how upset Neal was as they were leaving the apartment. And angry; he spent all morning disagreeing with everything that Peter had suggested.

"I called June and asked her to cancel the dinner she had planned." It was going to be a small get together to welcome Neal home but he didn't want to see anyone. Peter glanced sideways at a red light but Neal wouldn't look at him; he kept watching out the window as he had done the whole ride.

"Neal, are you feeling ok?" Silence greeted his question. Peter took a deep breath and then turned the radio on, hoping the music would lull Neal to sleep.

Neal reached over and turned the radio off.

"Damn it Neal, what is wrong with you?" Peter pulled over the first chance he had. He turned the car off and stared at his friend.

"Neal, you're going home. Why are you so angry?"

Neal turned as far as the seatbelt would allow with his back to Peter. The agent reached over and touched his forehead; it was cool so at least Neal wasn't hiding a fever. "Neal, I'm not sure what's wrong but I'm here when you're ready to talk." How many times have I said that Peter silently mused as he shook his head?

Peter started the car up and they drove the rest of the way in silence.

The stairs were daunting. Peter had unloaded the car while Neal sat in the front room with June. From the look on the older woman's face she hadn't gotten much from Neal and seemed concerned. Peter couldn't believe how much stuff they had accumulated in four months and was grateful that Elizabeth and Mozzie had made several trips during the week taking home what wasn't needed.

After the last suitcase was toted to the apartment, Peter entered the living room. "Neal, are you ready to go upstairs?" The ex-con nodded as he slowly stood and followed the agent.

"Just take them one at a time" Peter said as Neal latched on to the railing. Peter stayed one step behind with his hand on Neal's back encouraging his friend the whole way up.

Neal stopped with ten steps left to catch his breath.

"You're almost there" Peter whispered. "Can you do it?"

Neal didn't answer but he slowly slid down to a seated position with Peter immediately next to him.

"Peter, maybe this wasn't a good idea" June said as she hurried upstairs. "I can set up a bedroom on the first floor..."

"No." Neal said between breaths. "I want to sleep in my own bed. Just give me a few minutes."

"June, it will get easier" Peter added as he stood. "Come on Neal, you can do it." Carefully he hauled his partner to his feet. He slid an arm around Neal's waist and supported most of his weight as they slowly took the rest of the stairs. Once inside Neal's apartment Peter deposited him on the sofa.

"Rest" Peter ordered. "I'm going to start unpacking the suitcases."

* * *

Neal leaned against the wall staring at downtown Manhattan, a view he wasn't sure he was ever going to see again. Peter was watching him, as he had for the last few hours, but he was keeping his distance and allowing Neal to do what he needed.

Neal wasn't sure what to do. It was weird being home and he spent the first hour walking around, glancing at the artwork left unfinished when the cancer world invaded his peaceful existence. Every so often he would glance at Peter and a couple of times he caught the agent's eyes and it was clear Peter was concerned about him.

"Neal, can you put your jacket on?" The CI looked over his shoulder as Peter neared him. He took the jacket and silently put it on.

"Miss the view?"

Neal nodded.

"El will be here soon with dinner. Is that ok?" Neal knew what he was asking; earlier he had said he didn't want anyone around but Elizabeth didn't count. Neither did Peter. They had been there since the beginning and they were family now...or maybe they were before and Neal was just starting to realize that.

"Of course it's fine." Neal drifted away from the wall and settled at the table, his strength sapped from the day's activities. Peter sat down beside him.

"Peter, I don't know how to act right now."

Peter smiled, as he leaned over and rested his elbows on the table. "Sorry, I can't help you with that."

Neal looked away, clearly not happy with Peter's response. A few minutes later he went inside, leaving a befuddled agent behind.

* * *

Dinner was over, and Peter had just said goodbye to his wife. Neal was talkative during dinner but they all knew it was an act and played along with the good natured conversation about everything but the obvious.

Now it was just the two of them and after disappearing for nearly ten minutes Peter found Neal in the walk in closet. He heard him first and Peter stood in the doorway, debating if he should stay or go. After everything that Neal had gone through, coming home finally broke him and the muffled sobs tore at Peter's heart. It wasn't a hard decision and Peter slowly approached Neal, kneeling down in front of him.

"Hey!" Peter touched his shoulder. Neal seemed to shrink away, burying his face against his forearm. "Don't push me away now." Peter tugged Neal away from the wall and towards him, wrapping his arms around his partner. Neal's body shook within Peter's embrace and the agent felt helpless, as he rested his chin on Neal's head and held him close.

Neal scooted away a few minutes later but he didn't go far. He leaned sideways against the wall with his back to Peter, his breathing still ragged as he tried in vain to calm himself.

"Deep breaths" Peter encouraged as he settled back against the wall with his hand gently massaging his friend's shoulder.

"Wow, Byron had a lot of clothes" Peter remarked as his eyes took in all the racks. The off the cuff remark seemed to have the desired effect as Neal managed a small chuckle.

"What is wrong with me?" Neal eked out with a wavering voice. He swiped at the steady flow of tears that continued to row down his face. "I should be happy I'm home..." Neal paused as his voice cracked and his resolve crumbled once again.

"Let it out" Peter whispered as his hand settled on Neal's head, momentarily void of the cap he wore most of the time. Peter turned and wrapped his free arm around Neal, speaking nonsensical words of comfort as he once again held his friend.

* * *

An hour later Neal finally regained his composure; he was seated next to Peter with his back against the wall, neither man speaking.

"Neal, don't fall asleep here. You still have meds to take before bed." Peter glanced at his watch, surprised at how late it was.

"Are you going to answer my question?" Neal asked, voice low but stronger than before. It took Peter a few minutes to remember what Neal had asked.

"I think you're overwhelmed right now. I think you convinced yourself you were never coming home. I think you've finally realized just..." Peter paused to rethink his words. "Neal, in the hospital you didn't have the energy to think about what was going on. It was pure survival instinct...and now it hit you."

"We did it, didn't we?"

"You did it" Peter corrected. "I was just along for the ride."

"What a ride."

"Indeed." Peter agreed, with a deep sigh as he finally glanced sideways. He took a tissue from his pocket and held it out. "Your nose is still running" he added, as Neal grabbed the tissue and wiped his nose.

Peter took that moment to really look at his friend. "Neal, it's not over and you need to realize that. The next couple of months you're in isolation, especially during the flu and cold season."

"I know." Neal tried to stand but his legs failed him as he fell to his knees.

"Neal..."

"I'm ok. Just worn out from today." Peter stood and pulled Neal to his feet, holding his partner up until Neal was steady on his feet.

"OK, meds first and then we'll call it a night." Neal nodded and when he was able, they exited the closet.

* * *

Elizabeth often used the word fragile to describe Neal and Peter disliked that term and never agreed with her until today.

As he sat on the edge of the bed and watched Neal sleep, Peter could no longer deny how much Neal had changed in the past four months.

The physical changes were apparent to the eye and eventually Neal would regain the weight he lost and his strength. Peter worried more about his psyche and he hoped that time would heal that also.

He stood and fixed the covers, as Neal stirred briefly before settling down.

Peter grabbed a beer from the fridge, and his laptop and then seated himself on the sofa, hoping for a peaceful night.

He woke up suddenly and jumped off the sofa.

"Neal, what's wrong?" He rushed to the kitchen table where Neal was furiously scribbling notes. "Why are you up in the middle of the night?"

Neal shrugged. "I woke up and couldn't fall back to sleep so I started thinking."

"About?" Peter prompted as he sat down opposite his friend.

Neal put the pen down and cautiously eyed the agent. "Give me one week to get my head on straight and then you go back to work."

Peter's eyes widened but he remained silent sensing there was more.

"And you finally get to sleep in your own bed."

"Neal. No." Peter stood. "I think you're getting ahead of yourself. Slow down and we'll take it day by day."

"NO!" Neal stood also, slamming his hand on the table. "If I keep using a crutch how will I know if I can manage on my own?"

"And that's what I am? A crutch?"

"Peter of course not." Neal neared the agent and settled his hand on Peter's shoulder. "You know what you are to me. And it is time you get your life back." Briefly they made eye contact; Neal smiled before removing his hand and walking away.

"I won't be alone. June is here and Mozzie will come by. And you'll be here too." Neal pointed to the line sticking out of his chest. "It's not like I can do this alone."

Peter released the breath he wasn't aware he was holding. "That's some thinking you did last night. Are you sure about this?"

Neal nodded.

"OK. We'll do it your way. But if you don't feel well..."

"I'll call you. I promise." Neal held up his hand.

"Do you think you can go back to sleep?"

"Yeah." Neal headed back to bed; once he was settled Peter turned off the lights.

"Peter" Neal called out in the darkness.

"Yes?"

"You know I wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

Peter smiled. "Goodnight Neal." The agent turned on his side, yearning for his bed and the company of his wife. One week. Finally he was going home.


	15. Chapter 15

"Boss, what are you doing here? I thought you were taking the day off." Diana followed Peter into his office. "How's Neal?"

"He's ok." Peter hung his suit jacket over the chair and sat down. "His fever stayed around 100 all day yesterday but it didn't go up and the doctor was ok with him staying home." The agent shrugged as he logged into his computer. "Mozzie is with him today and Neal will call if anything changes."

"You hope he does" Diana chimed in with a small smirk.

"He will. Did I miss anything yesterday?" Before Diana could reply Hughes barged into the office. "Burke, in my office... now." He left as quickly as he came.

"Now what" Peter muttered as he exchanged glances with Diana. He stood and walked out.

"Peter, sit." The agent complied with his eyes on Hughes.

"Peter, you've been back three weeks and yesterday was your fourth day off. I know" Hughes added before Peter could open his mouth. "I know you asked for one day a week but I have an office to run and you have to understand that."

"I do." Peter squirmed in his chair. "Considering what Neal went through and is going through, he's doing well. And we just hit the five month mark...Reese I have to be there. Don't make me choose between Neal and my job."

"Hold on." The older man stood. "I'm not making you choose. Besides, I'm pretty sure I know your choice. But there are others...above me...and they're starting to question this." Hughes sat down and placed his elbows on the desk. "Peter, I need to know when you'll be back full time."

Peter lowered his head with a deep sigh. "Give me one more month. It's possible at six months he can come back part time..." Peter shrugged. "I can probably get someone to take him to Sloan...I can work full weeks as long as Neal is doing well."

"Thank you." Reese sat back. "There's something else you need to know."

Peter glanced up with a weary smile. "What?"

"The Marshalls are sniffing around. Now that Neal is out of the hospital they want the anklet back on."

"No." Peter stood and started pacing.

"Peter, sit down." The younger man stopped and eyed his boss. "Reese, the doctors said a year. They're worried he could cut his ankle and he's too susceptible to infection. Do they really think he'd run?"

"Do you? "Hughes countered.

"Of course not" Peter answered loudly with a shake of his head. "He can't. Physically he's not able to. Besides he's dependent on too many pills to keep him healthy." Finally Peter sat. "Can they force him to wear it?" he quietly asked.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Can I go?" Peter asked, anxious to remove himself from his boss's scrutiny.

"Not yet." Hughes crossed his arms and continued to watch Peter squirm. "Tell me how Neal is doing."

"Peter's eyes rose in surprise; after his first day back, Hughes rarely brought up Neal's name.

"He's doing well, getting stronger every day."

"And you?"

Peter's eyes narrowed at the unexpected question. "I'm fine" he stated a few minutes later.

"Reese, what's going on?"

The older man shrugged. "I want to know how my best agent is doing."

"I'm fine" Peter insisted as he glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the bullpen. "Can I go back and do my job?"

"Peter, if you were me, would you allow yourself out on the field?"

Finally Peter understood. He'd been on desk duty since coming back and several times he had asked to be allowed in the van and Hughes wouldn't agree to it. Yes, he was distracted and he called Neal several times during the day but he could do his job. At least he felt he could.

"Peter?" Reese leaned forward again and focused on Peter's face. He saw the younger man struggle with that question and he wasn't surprised when Peter shook his head no.

"We're in agreement on that. Prove to me you can fully concentrate on the job and I'll lift the restrictions."

Silence permeated the room and finally Hughes dismissed his agent.

* * *

"June, how are you?" Mozzie bowed slightly as the older woman motioned him in. "How's Neal?"

June pointed to the top of the stairs where Neal was sitting. "You can ask him yourself." Mozzie nodded as he slowly took the steps, finally sitting down next to Neal.

"What are you doing?"

"Counting my blessings" Neal answered sarcastically. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"Don't know. That's why I asked." Mozzie stood and walked into Neal's apartment. The younger man followed soon after.

"Two days ago, I made it up and down ten times. Today I couldn't even do five without breathing hard."

"Might have something to do with the fever you've been running." Mozzie started rummaging through the bottles of wine in the cabinet.

"Maybe" Neal agreed as he took the bottle from his friend. "If I can't drink, neither can you."

"Buzz kill" the quirky man muttered. "How are you feeling?"

"OK. No fever and I'm bored." He placed the bottle on the counter and sauntered towards the balcony.

"If you go out there, put a jacket on."

"Now you sound like Peter."

"I'm hurt" Mozzie countered as he tossed Neal his jacket. Neal threw the jacket away before plopping on the sofa.

"Let me guess. You're mad because Peter went back to work." Mozzie sat down opposite his friend, hands clasped together as he studied Neal's reaction.

"I told Peter to go back to work" Neal stated evenly. "I'm angry because I should be there too and they won't let me."

"I'm assuming they are the doctors who have done hundreds of transplants before you and probably know best."

"Shut up" Neal muttered as he jumped up and walked outside, ignoring the jacket lying on the floor.

"How does Peter put up with you?" Mozzie questioned as he neared Neal holding his jacket.

"I didn't ask you to come over today."

"No, the suit did. For some reason, he worries about you." Mozzie dropped the jacket on the ground and walked back inside.

A few minutes later Neal returned and sat down next to Mozzie, ignoring the glass of wine his friend was holding.

"Sorry" Neal muttered as he leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes, shivering slightly from his jaunt outside, falling asleep soon after.

"And this is why you can't go back to work" Mozzie whispered as he covered his sleeping friend with a wool blanket.

* * *

Peter slammed the phone down.

"Peter, is everything ok?"

"I guess" the agent muttered as he picked up the file they were working on. "Neal is sleeping and Mozzie won't take his temperature."

Jones chuckled. "Peter he's fine. You need to stop worrying so much."

"I know." Sighing he read the first page. "OK, let's close this case and maybe Hughes will get off my back."

"Boss, that one is already closed. We're working on this one." Diana didn't hide her concern as she handed Peter the right file.

Peter lowered his head into his hands with a deep sigh. "I'm not sure coming back was the right decision."

"Peter, Hughes isn't going to give you any more time off."

"I know." Peter eyed his team. "And if I lose my job it means Neal goes back to jail when he's medically able." Peter shook his head. "I'm counting on you two to keep my head in the game until Neal gets back here." He grabbed the right file and started reading.

* * *

"It's about time you woke up." Mozzie handed Neal the thermometer. "Take your temperature so the suit will leave me alone." Quietly the ex-con obeyed.

"It's normal" he announced a few minutes later, as he handed the thermometer back to Mozzie.

Mozzie quickly texted the results and then faced his friend. "I was going to tell you this before but you seemed out of sorts." He handed Neal a flier.

"A renaissance revival at the MOMA." Neal looked up. "This is three weeks away. Peter will never let me go."

"So we don't tell him. It's not like he can track you."

"I don't know." Neal stood.

"Neal, we'll go early when it's less crowded and you'll wear your mask. It will give you something to look forward to."

Neal glanced at the flier again. "Wow, some of the artists will be there. Do you think anyone would recognize me?"

"I doubt it." Mozzie scrutinized the younger man.

"Are you going to case the museum?"

"No." Mozzie held his hands up. "This is strictly to get you out of the house...no other agenda."

Neal silently thought about it. "Well, three weeks will be close to six months post transplant." He glanced at Mozzie and nodded. "It's a plan" he said, smiling broadly.

* * *

It was nearly 7pm when Peter entered Neal's apartment with a suitcase.

"Are you moving in?" Neal asked suspiciously.

"Just for the weekend" Peter answered as he started gathering the necessary items to flush Neal's line. "Elizabeth took the dog up north to her sister's for a family reunion."

"Peter, you should have gone with her."

"No." Peter smiled. "I'm using you as my excuse to get out of it."

"You lied to your wife."

"I didn't lie. Now sit." Though he had been doing this for a couple of months, Peter still wasn't comfortable as he carefully pushed the saline through Neal's line.

"I told her I didn't think leaving you alone for the weekend was a good thing."

"Careful. It's dripping down."

"Sorry." Peter handed Neal a towel and he dried himself off.

"Peter, your hands are shaking."

"I'm good." Peter finished up and then tossed the used supplies in the garbage.

"Bad day at work?" Neal asked as he buttoned his shirt up.

"Hughes is on my case and the Marshalls are asking about you." Peter tossed the casserole Elizabeth had made into the microwave as Neal set the table. "Don't worry, everything is fine."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. You just need to worry about getting stronger."

They ate dinner in silence. Afterwards, Neal sat at the table staring at his pills while Peter settled himself in front of the TV nursing a beer.

"Peter, as long as you're using me can we do something fun this weekend?" Neal popped the first pill in his mouth with a small sip of water.

"What'd you have in mind?"

"Anything to get me out of here" Neal answered as he sauntered over to the sofa.

"Are you done?"

"Taking a break." Neal sat down next to the agent. "Maybe something indoors..."

"You know the rules."

"I'll wear my mask."

"Neal. Isolation means away from crowds. Think of something outdoors and I'll consider it."

"Maybe in a few weeks..."

"After your immune studies and only if the doctors ok it. Go finish your pills."

A few minutes later Neal returned with two pieces of cake. He handed one to Peter. "Maybe I'll call the doctor and ask him."

"Go ahead." Peter sprinted up and grabbed a second beer. "Neal I know you're bored but getting sick isn't the answer."

"Peter I'm going crazy. I need to get out of here."

"You survived four years in jail..."

"This isn't the same."

"No. It's not." Peter slammed the beer on the table. "This time you have people around you who care about you and are doing everything possible to make sure you beat this." The agent stood. "Maybe this wasn't a good idea. I'm going home. Call me if you need anything."

"Wait." Neal grabbed Peter's arm. "I'm sorry. I won't bring it up again."

Peter shook his arm free. "It's been a long day. Let me get some sleep and we'll do something tomorrow that is safe and gets you out of here."

Neal nodded as he watched Peter stagger to the bathroom. He took the flier from the drawer and read it again before hiding it between some books. Three weeks wasn't that long; he'd play by the rules until then.


	16. Chapter 16

"I hate my hair" Neal whined as he stared in the mirror. It was growing in darker and curlier and Neal liked neither.

"As least you have hair" Mozzie said, as he rubbed his bald head for emphasis and neared the ex-con. "We need to get going if we want to get there when it opens."

Neal nodded and grabbed his jacket.

"Last chance to say no" Mozzie offered as he handed Neal his cap and mask. Neal had been waffling for weeks and up until Mozzie showed up, he still hadn't decided.

"Maybe I should tell Peter."

"And he'll meet us there and stop you." Mozzie sighed. "Neal it's up to you. Are we going?"

He wanted to go. He felt good and he needed to get out. "Let's do it." Neal followed Mozzie out of the apartment and they snuck by June's room with nary a sound.

"Where'd you get the car?" Neal asked as Mozzie pointed him in the right direction.

"I borrowed it" his friend answered. "The subway is way too crowded."

As they drove away, guilt gnawed at Neal and he did his best to quench that feeling.

* * *

It had been a bad morning at the bureau and Peter had tried reaching Neal several times to no avail. He wasn't answering his land line and the cell kept going to voice mail.

He had reached June and a quick check by the older woman revealed that Neal wasn't home and Peter's stomach started churning. Neal was good at keeping Peter abreast to what he was doing and the fact that he hadn't said anything, meant something was up.

He called Mozzie and wasn't surprised when the quirky man didn't answer.

"Diana, I'm taking an early lunch."

"Checking up on Neal?" she asked as he flew by her without answering.

He reached June's home in record time.

"Peter, what's wrong?"

"I'll know when I find Neal. Did you talk to him today?"

"We had breakfast together."

They hurried up the stairs. "Did he feel ok? Seem off at all?"

"He was fine. Finished everything without me nagging" June added with a smile. It was still a daily struggle to get Neal to eat the amount of calories he needed to maintain his weight. Gaining was a whole other battle they were losing at the moment.

Peter searched the apartment with tenacity, looking for any clues to where Neal had gone.

"What are you doing?" June followed him.

"He was acting odd last night and seemed like he wanted to tell me something." Peter went through the kitchen drawers.

"He hasn't text me once today."

He glanced up at June. "Every hour he sends me a text. He thinks if he annoys me enough I'll allow him to come back to work. Like it's my decision..." He glanced at the garbage and eyed something. He picked up the discarded crumpled up piece of paper and quickly unfolded it.

"I got it. And I'm going to kill him when I see him."

"Kind of defeats the purpose of the transplant" June said evenly as she watched Peter carefully. "What is that?"

"They went to the museum." He handed the flier to June. "Of all the stupid things to do..."

"Peter, his mask is gone." She pointed to the hook he always hung it on. "It's early and I'm sure they're staying away from others."

"They?" Peter looked up questioningly.

"I thought I heard Mozzie earlier" June admitted.

"Of course" Peter spit out, taking the flier and tossing it back in the garbage. "I should have known he'd be behind this harebrained idea". He took out his cell and called Diana, to let her know that he would be late getting back to the office.

"Peter what are you doing?"

He settled himself on the sofa. "I'm waiting for Neal to get home." With a roll of her eyes, June left the apartment debating if she should warn those two before they came home.

* * *

It was hard to miss Peter when they entered the loft; he had positioned a chair front and center and was the first thing they saw when they walked in.

"Peter."

"Suit."

They said in unison, both stopping dead in their tracks.

"Peter, what are you doing here?" Neal tried to hide the pamphlet he was holding.

"Neal, what do you have there?" Peter asked, with his tone neutral.

"Nothing." He stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

"Can I see it?" Peter stood, holding his hand out, not missing the step back that Neal took. "I missed your texts today, so I stopped by to see how you were doing."

"You could have called" Mozzie piped in.

"I did. Several times. Neal never answered."

"Oh." Neal looked at his phone. "I must have turned it off by mistake."

"I'm sure you did. Neal, I'm waiting." Peter wriggled his fingers and finally Neal gave in, knowing the agent already knew.

"Don't overreact" Neal suggested, bracing himself for the inevitable. "I took every precaution and we didn't stay long."

"And I assumed you called the doctor beforehand to get permission."

Neal looked away; Peter already knew the answer.

"Damn it Neal." Peter slammed the pamphlet on the table. "Just how stupid can you be?"

"Now wait a minute suit..."

"Shut up." He pointed a finger at Mozzie.

Peter paced a few steps and then turned back to face them.

"Look how red his face is..."

"Mozzie..."

"Just saying. That can't be good for his health."

"Get out." Peter screamed at Mozzie. "Get out now."

"Wait a minute...you can't kick me..."

"Mozzie, please. I'll call you later."

Mozzie took a minute to think that over before nodding his head towards Neal and walking out, slamming the door behind him.

"Peter, don't blame him" Neal said after several minutes of deafening silence.

"I don't." Peter continued his relentless pacing.

"Peter, stop pacing. You're making me dizzy." Neal took off his jacket and tossed it on a hook along with his mask.

Finally Peter stopped. And he faced Neal, opening his mouth twice without speaking, taking time to rethink his words.

"All those months you suffered to survive" Peter quietly said. "I hope those few hours in the museum were worth it."

He walked out before Neal could respond.

* * *

"Hon, are you home?" Peter briefly greeted the dog before finding his wife in the kitchen. "Everything go ok with Neal?"

"He thinks you're avoiding him" Elizabeth said as she took out two plates and handed them to Peter.

"I'm not avoiding him. Hughes was not happy with my three hour lunch and tightened the leash around my neck."

"Hon, he's sorry about earlier."

"No, he's not" Peter retorted as he grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses. "He's sorry I caught him." Peter sighed as he took a small sip. "I hope his little jaunt to the museum is nothing more than a day out for him."

"Peter, he's bored."

"I know that." Together they sat and quietly started eating.

"Peter, call him tonight."

Peter stared at his wife as he finished chewing.

"Contrary to what Neal said I am not angry with him. I know he's bored and wants his life back. We all want that for him." Peter took a roll and smothered it with butter, much to the disapproval of his wife. He ate half of it with one bite.

"I will call him tonight like I do every night to make sure the meds are down and he's feeling alright. OK?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Do you want some more bread to go with your butter?" she asked sweetly, ignoring the look he gave her.

"I can't believe it's been six months" Peter said, forking a piece of chicken into his mouth. "I scheduled all of Neal's appointments today and hopefully they'll remove some of his restrictions."

"And if they don't?" Elizabeth quietly asked; voicing something Peter didn't want to think about.

"Then I'll be looking for a babysitter" Peter answered with a weary smile.

* * *

"Neal, are you home?" You better be Peter silently mused as he entered Neal's apartment. He felt the cool breeze before noticing the open balcony door and he found his partner outside, staring at the skyline.

"Come inside. Let's eat before the food gets cold." Neal followed the agent. "I didn't know you were eating here tonight. Where's Elizabeth?"

"Client dinner" Peter answered as he dished out stew on two plates. "You don't mind me staying, do you?"

Neal shook his head, taken aback by Peter's manner.

"I assumed you would still be..."

"Neal, I already told you I'm not angry with you. Disappointed yes, angry no." Peter eyed his partner. "The only person you hurt yesterday was yourself."

"Wow Peter. That's very...parental of you." Neal smiled. "And I learned my lesson..."

"Enough." Peter shook his head. "Seriously we're ok. And I did talk to your doctor and he doesn't think yesterday will cause any issues. But..." Peter pointed a finger. "He'd prefer you not do it again until you're medically cleared. Deal?"

Neal nodded as he started to eat.

"Next Thursday you'll be admitted for your tests..."

"Admitted?" Neal asked with wide eyes. "I have to stay there?"

Peter nodded. "Just one night but it will be the regular oncology ward so..."

"Peter I'll be fine by myself." He shoveled some food into his mouth. "Is Hughes really on your case?"

"More like they're on his case about me" Peter answered with a shrug. "They've bent over backwards for me...for us...and it's time we get back to normal."

"Amen" Neal whispered, more than ready for that to happen.

* * *

Peter was in between meetings when his phone rang.

"Neal... Mozzie, what's wrong?" He listened for several minutes before racing out of his office.

"Reese, Neal's at the hospital and there's something wrong with his counts and Sloan wants him transferred immediately..."

Hughes stood. "Peter, go. Call as soon as you know something." Hughes watched him hurry towards the elevator.

"Jones, go with him. I don't want him driving." Jones nodded and then raced after Peter.


	17. Chapter 17

Peter reached the hospital just as they were starting the bone marrow aspiration and biopsy. He quietly entered the room; Neal was on his side as they drilled the needle into his back. He had been given a local anesthetic but there was still some pain especially during the aspiration.

"I'm here" Peter whispered as he lightly touched Neal's cheek; he could feel the heat radiating from Neal's body and the reason Neal was taken to the emergency room. From his brief conversation with Mozzie, Peter had learned that Neal was burning up when Mozzie found him and the quirky man had called 911 immediately.

Because of his transplant, blood tests were run and the results faxed to Sloan, who insisted that Neal be transferred to them. Peter didn't have a chance to talk to Neal's doctor and he was worried about the blood counts; relapse was a real possibility during the first year post transplant.

"We're done" the doctor announced as they bandaged the site and gently turned Neal on to his back.

"Rest here for ten minutes and we'll take you to a room." The room cleared out until it was just the two of them.

Peter pulled the lone chair closer and sat down. "Hey." He ran his hand down Neal's arm, resting it on top of Neal's hand. The ex con gripped Peter's fingers with a quiet sigh.

"You're going to be fine" Peter whispered, though he couldn't muster any confidence with his words. Peter squeezed Neal's hand, gently rubbing his thumb in circles as they waited for them to transfer Neal to a room on the oncology floor.

* * *

Peter paced and then he'd sit, only to jump up a minute later. He hated waiting and it was nearly four hours after the biopsy and they still hasn't seen the doctor. They had hooked Neal up to several IV's and they managed to get the fever down, though it was still hovering around 102. Neal slept fretfully, occasionally crying out in his sleep.

"Peter..."

"Yeah." He neared the bed.

"Can I have water?" Peter nodded as he poured a small amount in the cup and placed a straw near Neal's mouth. He took two small sips before burrowing further under the blanket.

"Are you cold? Do you want another blanket?"

"Did the doctor come by?"

"Not yet." Peter answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

"It's taking too long" Neal said and Peter couldn't disagree. Emergency results usually took an hour and the fact that it was taking much longer made Peter feel uneasy.

"Go back to sleep. I'll wake you when he gets here."

"I'm sorry" Neal muttered.

"For what?" Peter sat back down.

"Going to the museum" Neal answered as he turned on his side, facing Peter. "It's the reason I got sick, isn't it?"

"We don't know that." Peter reached over and cupped Neal's neck. "Besides, it doesn't matter. You just need to worry about getting better and out of here. Ok?"

Neal inched towards the edge, closer to Peter. "Would they do a second transplant?" he quietly asked, meeting Peter's gaze.

"I don't know" the agent admitted. It wasn't something he had thought to ask about or thought they'd ever have to face. "Can we worry about that only if it's necessary?" he pleaded.

"Tell me you're not worried" Neal said, with his eyes still on Peter. "And don't lie to me."

Peter looked away briefly. "OK, I'm worried." He stood and stared out the window. Minutes turned to hours and finally, as the sun set, the doctor walked in.

"You're smiling." Peter jumped to his feet. "Neal he's smiling. Good news?" He stared at the doctor who simply nodded. Peter let out a holler and then covered his mouth. "Sorry" he whispered, remembering where he was. He glanced down at Neal; the ex-con had his eyes closed but he gripped the blanket tightly and there was a noticeable change in his breathing.

Peter reached out and rubbed Neal's head. "Why'd it take so long?" Peter asked, eyeing the doctor.

"Sorry." The doctor shrugged. "I ran extra tests to rule out everything. His cells look good and no blasts."

"So what is it?"

"Nothing has grown yet. Probably just a virus."

Peter didn't like the unknown, but he kept his tone neutral. "What's next?"

"We're going to admit Neal to the bone marrow ward. I can keep a better eye on him there."

"How long?" Peter asked as he felt Neal flinch beneath his hand.

"Until we get the fever down; a few days, maybe a week. Once he's feeling better, we'll run all his 6 month tests so he won't have to come back for those." The doctor's eyes darted from Neal to Peter.

"Sit tight while they get a room ready and then they'll transfer you upstairs." After he left, Peter returned his attention and worry to his friend.

"Neal, are you ok?" Peter carefully sat on the bed. "No relapse. You'll get rid of this virus and then you're out of here. Try to relax." He took Neal's hand and coaxed his fingers apart and then slipped the blanket from his grip. "Can you stretch your legs?" Neal had curled up, cat like hours ago. Slowly Peter pulled the blanket down.

"Hey, this flimsy gown hides nothing" Neal muttered opening one eye.

"Nothing I haven't seen before. Straighten your legs for me."

Neal groaned as his stiff muscles didn't want to cooperate. Once he was flat on his back, Peter pulled the covers up and sat back on the edge.

"Relax and try to get some sleep. I'm going to make some calls and ask Elizabeth to bring us clothes for tonight."

"Are you staying?"

Peter nodded. "If you feel better, I'll go into work tomorrow."

"Hughes is going to kill you."

"No he won't." Peter chuckled. "Despite him being on my case, he's always maintained I can be with you if you ever got readmitted. Now close your eyes." Neal was wiped out and it didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

* * *

Elizabeth leaned against Peter as they watched Neal sleep.

"Never thought we'd be back here" Elizabeth whispered.

"Me neither." Peter leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"It doesn't feel the same."

"It doesn't." Peter agreed again. It was nice seeing the staff and some of the families still there, but there were new patients and new stories and Peter didn't want to be there long enough to get to know them. It was hard enough hearing about those that had passed away in the last two months.

Despite being readmitted Neal was still a survivor and in a few days they would be leaving this all behind them again, hopefully for good.

Neal moaned and called out; they rushed to the bed as the ex-con stared up, eyes glassy and confused.

"I think his fever is rising. I'll get the nurse." Elizabeth ran out.

"Neal, calm down." Peter took his flailing hand.

"I don't want to die." Neal twisted in bed.

"Calm down." Peter gently pushed him back, relieved when the nurse rushed in. A thermometer revealed that his temperature had climbed back to 105. She left to call the doctor, leaving Peter and Elizabeth to deal with a delirious Neal who moaned incoherently as he stared off in the distance.

The nurse returned a few minutes later with a cart.

"He said to use ice packs." She removed the blanket and placed the packs around Neal's groin and under his armpits and then covered him again.

"I'll be back soon to check his temperature."

After she left, Neal protested the cold but his body gave in to the fever and he slept again, fretfully.

"His fever was never this high during the transplant" Peter commented, clearly concerned.

"Do you want me to stay tonight?" Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Please" Peter said as they settled on the sofa, expecting a long night.

* * *

"Peter, are you awake?"

The agent jerked his head up. "Neal?" He rushed to the bed. "Wow, it's good to see you awake. How do you feel?" After three days his fever finally broke.

"Thirsty. And dirty." Neal shifted. "I need a bath real bad. When can I get out of here?"

"Slow down" Peter said as he handed water to his friend. "Do you have any idea what day it is?"

Neal thought that over and then shrugged. "How many days have I been here?" he finally asked.

"Too many" Peter answered as he took the cup from Neal and placed it on the tray. "Today is day four" he said, remembering all too well the first countdown they had on this floor.

"Wow" Neal mumbled. "I don't remember any of it."

"Wish I didn't" Peter retorted as he paged the nurse. He stepped aside as they checked his vitals and took blood. His counts had remained low while the fever raged and he needed several transfusions over the past few days.

"They said you turned the corner last night" Peter said when they were alone again. "They never figured out what it was but it hit you hard. Even your doctor seemed concerned and I never saw him worry during the transplant."

Neal quietly took that all in. "What's next?" he finally asked.

"You'll need to be fever free for twenty-four hours and then you'll have your immune studies and then we'll bust out of here."

"We?" Neal glanced at Peter. "Have you been here the whole time?"

Peter walked away, eyeing the transplant floor.

"Peter?" Neal prompted when the agent remained silent.

"Remember when you told me you didn't want to die alone?"

Neal nodded.

"There were several times the last few days when I thought that might happen so I was afraid to leave."

Peter took a deep breath as wetness welled behind his eyes.

Neal closed his eyes, trying to comprehend what Peter had just said.

"Peter, am I going to be ok?"

"Yeah." The agent walked over and settled himself on the bed, briefly grasping Neal's hand. "You're going to be fine. Are you hungry?"

Neal nodded. Peter left and returned a few minutes later with a tray of food.

Neal ate half and then pushed the tray away, chuckling when Peter snatched an uneaten piece of toast.  
"Peter, go home and take a shower. No need for both of us to stink."

"I don't stink" Peter protested.

"Really? You've been here too long if you can't smell yourself" Neal countered. "I'm ok. Go home and get some rest."

"I'll be back later. Any requests?"

"Some home cook food" Neal answered.

"I'm sure Elizabeth will oblige. Sure you're ok with me leaving?"

"Get out" Neal ordered good naturedly.

Smiling for the first time in days, Peter walked out.


	18. Chapter 18

Peter took the stairs two at a time eager to give Neal the good news. He knocked and then slowly opened the door when Neal didn't answer.

"Neal?" He called out quietly as his eyes searched the apartment, finding the CI asleep at the table. Neal had spent two weeks in the hospital and nearly two weeks after his release he was still fighting the effects of the virus.

Peter sat and studied the drawings scattered on the table. The illness had done more than sap Neal's strength, it did a number on his friend's psyche and that worried Peter the most. Except for his usual clinic visits Neal hadn't gone out of the house and worse, he didn't want to. He spent the days contently watching TV or drawing with not much of an appetite or the desire to do anything; as opposed to the unbridled energy that Neal had had before the illness when Peter almost resorted to hiring a babysitter to keep an eye on his partner.

"Hey bud." Peter shook him gently until Neal moaned and shied away from Peter's hand. "Neal, get up."

The CI groaned and lifted his head, with one opened eye glaring at Peter. "I'm tired" he mumbled.

"What are you doing here?"

"Taking you home with me for the weekend" Peter said, as he walked into the kitchen and started gathering Neal's meds. "Pack a suitcase unless you plan on walking around like that in front of my wife."

Neal tightened the sash on his robe, covering up the boxers and t-shirt. "Peter, you seem to be forgetting I can't be around your dog."

"Yes you can. Your doctor called me when you didn't answer; your immune studies came back at seventy percent and anything over sixty is excellent at this point."

"And that means...?" Neal sat up straighter as he placed the drawings in a neat pile.

"It means fewer restrictions and we'll talk about that later." Peter wanted to get to his place before the snow started. "Neal I'm not leaving you here alone during a snow storm. Now get moving."

"I'm not alone. June is here."

"June is in Florida..."

"She tells you her itinerary?" Neal rolled his eyes, standing with a quiet groan. "Of course she does. Someone has to keep an eye on me." Neal walked with noticeable stiffness.

"Are you feeling ok?"

"Just tired" Neal replied as he tossed a few items into a bag. "Snowed in with the Burkes" he mumbled. "Sounds like a Lifetime movie of the week."

Peter smiled. "If you work your charm right, you might get fresh orange juice in the morning." Neal eyed him with interest. Fresh fruit had been on the forbidden list due to bacteria and Neal had been craving orange juice for months.

Neal removed his robe and quickly pulled on a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt.

"Bring some jeans in case we go out." Neal was about to protest but thought better of it and threw in a pair of jeans, along with a sweater.

"Is Elizabeth ok with this?" Neal grabbed a sketch pad and a few pencils and slid them carefully into the bag.

"Of course she is. The way you've been acting lately, she thinks a little mothering will do you some good."

"Peter..."

"Don't worry. She promises to keep her distance." Peter smiled. "Neal you can draw and watch TV at our place. Besides, if the snow gets bad enough I'd think you'd prefer not to be alone."

Peter took a plastic bag and filled it with all the medical supplies they would need for Neal's line, along with all the medication. "This is worse than travelling with a baby" he noted, staring at the bags gathered near the front door.

"Your idea" Neal put forth as he put on his jacket and grabbed his gloves and wool hat. "Do I need this?" He held up his mask.

"Take it with you." With an exaggerated sigh Neal threw it in a bag and then followed Peter out.

* * *

Peter opened his eyes as he heard footsteps. He threw the covers off and groaned when the cold air hit.

"Hon?"

"Go back to sleep. I'll check on Neal." Peter grabbed his sweatpants and toed on his slippers, before nearing the window. It was the first storm of winter and it was coming down hard; he glanced at Elizabeth, already back to sleep. It wasn't going to be the romantic weekend he had hoped for but he knew he'd sleep better knowing Neal was with them and not alone in June's mansion.

He found his friend in the kitchen with a glass of water and a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

"Sorry, if I woke you" Neal said as he finished the first cookie. "And before you ask, I feel fine. I just couldn't sleep." He eyed Peter briefly before lowering his gaze.

"Would you prefer hot cocoa with the cookies?" Peter didn't bother waiting for an answer as he took out the milk and started heating it up.

"Wow you make it from scratch. Peter I'm impressed."

The agent ignored the sarcasm as he placed cocoa in two mugs and carefully poured in the hot milk.

"Stir it." He handed Neal a spoon and then grabbed a bag of marshmallows from the cabinet.

"This is good." Neal took a small sip before grabbing another cookie. "It's snowing hard out there."

"It is." Peter agreed as he swiped a cookie from the plate. "They're predicting a foot by the morning."

"Thank you" Neal said a few minutes later.

Peter looked at him questioningly.

"For insisting I come here." Neal shrugged with a slight smile. "I don't think I'd want to be alone right now."

Peter nodded, keeping his eyes on Neal, allowing the ex-con to continue if he needed too. "How'd it feel in the hospital when you thought I might die?"

Peter sat back in his chair, clearly not expecting that question. "Neal, I'm not sure what you want me to say" the agent answered honestly.

"I thought I had this beat and then that happened..."

"You did beat it."

"Peter I almost died. You said it yourself."

The agent shook his head. "You're alive Neal and that's all that matters."

"But it could happen again."

"And you'll beat it again."

"It's not that simple." Neal sat back in his chair, mirroring Peter's position.

"Yes it is." Peter leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "And to answer your question, I was scared." Peter took another cookie and focused his attention on the dog, who slept peacefully near his feet.

"It scared me too" Neal admitted with a quiet sigh, briefly catching Peter's eyes.

"I know." Peter reached over and grasped Neal's wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Neal, it was just a scare. That's better than the real thing..."

Neal looked up with a weary smile. "Yeah, I know." He stood gingerly and grabbed the empty plate.

"Neal, we'll do the dishes in the morning. Can you go back to sleep?"

"I'd rather watch TV for a bit" Neal countered as he headed towards the sofa.

Peter followed, settling himself in the recliner. He grabbed the remote and flipped stations until he found something they both agreed on.

* * *

As she descended the last steps Elizabeth heard the unmistakable sounds of her husband snoring. She stopped dead in her tracks with a bemused smile, debating if she should run upstairs and grab the camera.

Peter was on one end of the sofa with his head thrown back and mouth wide open. Neal occupied the rest of the sofa with his head resting against Peter's leg and one arm dangling to the floor. Peter's head jerked up suddenly.

Elizabeth tiptoed towards them.

"Hey hon" Peter whispered with a tired smiled.

"Should I be jealous?" Elizabeth asked, pointing at Neal.

"Not a chance." Peter managed to wriggle free and with a slight groan he stood and staggered towards the kitchen.

"Can I ask?" Elizabeth questioned as she started a pot of coffee and joined her husband at the kitchen table.

Peter shrugged as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. "He was thinking too much and couldn't sleep so I sat next to him and that seemed to help." Peter shook his head as he eyed his wife, dismayed that she was smiling. "It was the only way either one of us was going to get some sleep."

Elizabeth chuckled softly as she placed a cup of coffee in front of her husband. "Can I call you the Neal whisperer?"

"No." Peter rolled his eyes. "Is my ski suit still in the upstairs closet?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Why?"

"When Neal gets up we'll shovel the walk and get the car out."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Peter nodded. "He'll be bundled up and the exercise will do him good."

Elizabeth wasn't so sure but she kept that to herself. "Did you tell him what the doctor said?"

"Not yet."

"Are you going to?"

"In due time" Peter answered as he stood. "Come on Satch." He grabbed the leash as Elizabeth handed him his jacket and boots.

"It's cold" Peter said as the open door blew in snow.

"Be careful" Elizabeth called out as the snow continued to fall.

* * *

"Peter I can't move" Neal whined, holding his arms out stiffly to demonstrate.

"Stop exaggerating" Peter said as he put his boots on, trying hard to hide the smile that was creeping across his face. Peter lost count to how many layers Neal had on but the ski suit barely fit over everything.

"I'm a sick man" Neal tried, playing on the agent's sympathy. "I can't shovel snow..."

"You are not sick" Peter yelled, voice rising in anger. "You were sick and now you're not. Time to start living again and it starts with helping me shovel snow. Understand?" Peter took a calming breath as Elizabeth came running in to mediate.

"Peter?"

"Hon, we're fine. Right Neal?"

"I'm hot" Neal quietly said, addressing Elizabeth.

"You won't be for long." Peter handed Neal a shovel and pushed him out the door with the dog happily trailing behind them.

Peter walked a slow circle, as he eyed the never ending whiteness that surrounded them. The temperature had climbed to near thirty and with a calm wind it wasn't bad outside at all; unless you were mummified like a certain CI.

"Peter, what will the neighbors think?" Neal removed his scarf to speak, waddling towards the agent.

"I'll tell them you're my cousin from Hawaii." Peter smiled. "You start over there and I'll start here. If you get out of breath or tired, we'll take a break. OK?"

"Sure" Neal smiled brightly before covering his face again. Peter had barely cleaned a spot when he heard his name being called.

He turned with a lecture ready, reeling back as a snowball hit him squarely in the nose.

"Neal!" Peter wiped his face with his sleeve.

The CI had his back to Peter, as he slowly tossed a shovel of snow to the side. "Neal, I know you did that."

Neal turned, feigning innocence. "Did what?" He asked, trying in vain to hide his smile.

"Get back to work" Peter muttered, returning to his task. A few minutes later he was hit on the back of his head.

"That's it." Peter dropped the shovel and before Neal knew what hit him; he was on the ground, face down. "That's for being a wiseass" Peter said as he helped his snow covered friend to his feet. "Do you think we can finish now?"

Neal wiped the snow from his face with a chuckle. "I'd prefer to go inside and have some hot cocoa" he countered.

"Fifteen minutes Neal. Can you help me for fifteen minutes?"

"Fine" Neal whined as he picked up his shovel.

An hour later, the sidewalk and stairs were done and Neal looked spent. "Go inside and warm up. I'll do the car."

Neal nodded and headed inside. "Go on" Peter said to the dog, who happily followed Neal.

Peter picked up the shovel and started digging his car out.

* * *

It was nearly eleven o'clock on a peacefully quiet Sunday and Peter was contently reading the newspaper at the kitchen table while Satchmo slept close by.

He heard footsteps above leading from the bedroom to the bathroom.

"Neal must finally be up" he whispered to the dog. Saturday had gone as planned and Peter was still proud of himself. It took a little exercise for Neal to gain an appetite and he even had energy in the evening to join Peter for a walk.

That didn't stop Peter from checking on him several times during the night, much to the amusement of his wife.

A few minutes later Neal staggered in, looking very much like someone who had slept twelve hours.

"Morning" Peter said brightly, much to Neal's annoyance. "How do you feel?"

"Hungry" Neal admitted, grabbing a bowl and the box of cereal. He eyed the pills lined up like little toy soldiers and scowled.

"Hey, it's only ten" Peter put forth, noting the glare Neal threw him. "Considering what it used to be..." Peter shrugged and grew quiet, allowing Neal a few minutes of silence to eat his breakfast.

"How many times did you check on me last night?"

Peter glanced up from the sport's page. "Did I wake you?"

"Only once." Neal smiled. "Worried that your little plan might get me sick?"

Sighing, Peter stood and poured himself another cup of coffee. "Did it work?" he asked the ex-con.

"Maybe" Neal said evenly as he made quick work of the first bowl and helped himself to more cereal. "My appetite seems better" he added, grabbing the toast Peter put near him. "Where's Elizabeth?" he asked, mouth full of food.

"Slow down" Peter admonished. "I walked her to the subway early this morning. She's meeting her friends downtown for a shopping day."

"What are we doing?"

"Roads are still pretty crappy" Peter said. "Let's give them a few hours to clean and maybe we can venture out for lunch. How does that sound?"

Neal shrugged as he gingerly picked up the first pill and swallowed it with a sip of orange juice.

"Neal, you haven't asked me what your doctor said."

"Figured you get around to it eventually" Neal counted, eyeing the agent. "If it's bad it can wait..."

"It's all good Neal" Peter chimed him, cutting off his friend.

"How would you like to go back to work?"

"Really?" Neal put the spoon down.

"With restrictions..."

"Of course."

"Are you going to hear me out?"

"All ears" Neal said brightly, plastering a fake smile on his face.

"You start slow. Maybe a day or two a week. Get your feet wet..."

"Back in the saddle" the CI quipped.

"Neal!"

"Sorry." Neal held his hands up in defeat. "Continue, please."

"He doesn't want you in the bullpen so you'll work in my office or in the conference room."

"What about the mask?" Neal asked as he finished off his second bowl of cereal.

"If you're sequestered in a room, you're fine. Otherwise it's on."

Neal sat back and eyed the agent. "Peter, everyone will stare at me."

"It's all planned." Peter pointed to his head. "We'll take the back elevator and hallway and go straight to my office. If we work it right, you'll rarely have to wear it."

Peter smiled. "One step closer to getting your life back. Are you willing?"

It didn't take Neal long to think that over. "More than you know" he answered. "What about the van?"

"Lucky for you, the doctor said no. We're not sure what's growing in there."

Neal smiled. "Smart man" he retorted. "Give me a week and I'll be ready."

Neal turned silent as he downed the remaining pills, making a face after each one. With an exaggerated sigh, he ate the rest of his toast.

"Peter."

The agent glanced up from his newspaper.

"Is it ok if I'm nervous about going back?"

Peter studied him, unsure how to answer that.

"Forget it." Neal gathered the dirty dishes and walked them to the sink. Peter watched him.

"There's no reason for you to be nervous. You've worked with these people for two years. They're not going to treat you any differently."

Neal kept his back to Peter as he slowly washed the dishes. He heard the agent approach him.

"Neal, trust me on his." Peter grasped the CI's shoulder. "I've been with you since the beginning. I'll have your back."

Neal nodded, as he took a deep breath, not trusting his voice.

A few minutes later he turned the water off and dried his hands. "I'm going to take a bath" he said, his voice low as he raced past the agent.

Peter lowered himself to the floor, rubbing the dog's stomach. "I will never understand him" Peter whispered.


	19. Chapter 19

Peter greeted June with a warm smile as she motioned him inside and quickly closed the door to the cold air.

"Hey Neal" Peter said as he saw his friend sitting on the steps. "Are you ready to go?" The agent sat down next to his partner. "Are you feeling ok?" He reached for Neal's forehead but the ex-con intercepted Peter's hand before it reached its destination.

"I'm fine" Neal stated firmly as Peter lowered his arm.

"So, why are you sitting here?"

Neal stood; even with his newly tailored suit, the weight lost was noticeable.

"Neal, sit down. Please."

Neal sat, keeping his distance from the agent. "We had this talk last week" Peter began, as he turned slightly to face his partner. "Your sentence doesn't officially begin again until the anklet goes back on. You don't need to go back now if you're not ready."

Neal lowered his head and rested his elbows on his drawn up knees. He felt Peter's hand come to rest on the back of his neck and he closed his eyes with a couple of deep breaths.

"Neal?"

He heard the worry in Peter's voice.

"I'm fine" he whispered in a thick voice that wavered slightly.

"You don't sound fine" Peter retorted matter-of-factly.

"I'm not" Neal admitted a few minutes later, stating the obvious. "Maybe you should go without me."

"Tell me why" Peter insisted, finally removing his hand. "Yesterday you seemed excited. What happened to change your mind?"

"This happened." Neal stood and gestured towards himself. "I look in the mirror and I don't see myself. They're expecting Neal Caffrey ex-con extraordinaire and I'm not sure I can be that guy."

Peter laughed; probably not the best reaction he surmised, noting Neal's eyes narrowing in anger.

"I'm sorry." He quickly followed Neal up the stairs and into the loft before Neal was able to slam the door in his face.

"I'm sorry." Peter repeated as he watched Neal tear off his jacket. "Neal, stop." Peter reached for his arms before he could remove his tie. "Calm down..." Peter stood mere inches away from his friend. He waited for Neal to comply with a couple of shaky drawn out breaths, before releasing the ex-con's arms.

"Neal, I know you don't want to hear this but you're being ridiculous." Neal walked away. "No one cares what you look like" Peter continued as he followed his partner. "No expectations. I promise."

"I care." Neal stated loudly as he turned and faced Peter. "I have to look the part..." he paused with a slight shrug. "Peter, I don't expect you to understand..."

"Good. Because I don't." Peter picked up Neal's jacket and held it out. "Put it on" he ordered in a commanding voice. He studied his friend. With his hair long enough to cover his ears and his eyes shining bright, he looked like the person Peter had known before he became sick; and not the man he had spent months in the hospital with. "Neal I wouldn't lie to you. Yes, you're thinner than you were and your hair is shorter but you look healthy. That's all that matters to anyone who cares about you."

"I hired a personal trainer" Neal said out of the blue. "I meet him at the gym three times a week."

"Neal..." Peter shook his head in disbelief.

"I called the doctor and he said ok as long as I don't go around the general public."

"Ok then." Peter shrugged. He wanted to ask Neal where the money was coming from but he'd probably have to arrest him if he knew the truth. "Can we go to work now?"

"I have the right to leave if I don't want to go inside."

"Your choice" Peter countered. "Where's your hat?" Peter saw the fedora hanging up but Neal grabbed his arm before he took a step towards it.

"No. Not Yet."

Peter stared at him in utter amazement.

"Let me guess" he said somewhat sarcastically. "The hat is part of the character you don't feel up to playing yet."

"Smart man" Neal said with a fake smiled plastered on his face. "Let's go before I change my mind." He placed his arm around Peter's shoulder and guided the agent towards the door.

* * *

"Peter!" The agent turned and waited for Jones to catch up. "I hear Neal is back." His eyes darted around, searching.

"He is. I have him in a conference room down the hall."

"And those...?" Jones pointed to the stack of files in Peter's hands.

"Enough to keep him busy all week...if he makes it that long. Do you want to go with me?"

Jones nodded and they headed down the hall, towards the back of the building. As they got closer they heard laughter. Peter stopped and smiled, trying to remember the last time he heard Neal truly laugh. "I wasn't sure I'd ever hear that again." He was grateful that Jones didn't ask him to explain.

"Diana is with him at the moment" Peter said as they turned the last corner and entered the room.

"Neal" Jones greeted as the ex-con stood, extending his hand.

"Good to see you" Jones said as he grasped Neal's hand. "You look good...much better..."

"Then the last time" Diana finished as Peter dropped the files on the table.

"Is that for me?" Neal asked, with wide eyes.

"I have meetings all morning" Peter explained, "and that will keep you busy."

"Am I stuck in here? What if I want coffee?"

"Diana or Clinton can bring it to you."

"Really?" Neal perked up.

"Abuse it Caffrey and you will pay later."

Peter laughed; he missed the simple banter between his team members. "Neal, you can leave but only if you wear you mask..."

"I forgot it" Neal chimed in quickly.

"Convenient" Peter muttered as he produced a mask from his pocket and tossed it on the table. "I have several more in my office if that one goes missing." Diana snickered and Jones tried in vain to keep a straight face.

Neal's shoulders sagged in defeat.

"Neal, it's your choice. You have a bathroom next door so you can stay in this area..."

"Boss I can keep him company if you want."

"That's fine." Peter checked his watch. "I need you both at the 11 o'clock meeting but until then you can stay and help Neal."

Peter stepped out but only so far that they couldn't see him. He stopped and he listened; the conversation quickly turned to work gossip and what Neal had missed while he was gone. He heard more laughter...this time at his own expense. Peter smiled again and closed his eyes as moisture welled up. Neal might not realize it but this was exactly what he needed.

* * *

"Peter, come here." With much trepidation Peter followed his boss.

"I stopped by about thirty minutes ago and he hasn't moved." Hughes chuckled as they stared through the window; Neal had his head resting on his forearms, clearly asleep.

"Sorry Reese. The meeting went longer than I expected. I'll take him home." Before Peter could enter the room, Hughes stopped him and pointed towards a nearby office.

"Let me show you something." Hughes took out a set of keys and opened the door. "The cot is old but all the bedding is new" he explained as they entered the small, private office. "It locks from the inside and there are only two keys." He handed the set to Peter, who stared at his boss in shock.

"It's going to be a while before Caffrey can work a full day and I figured this was a better alternative to driving him home every day." Peter continued to stare, dumbfounded.

"Peter, I believe this is the point where you ask me why I'm doing this."

Peter closed his mouth and took a not so subtle deep breath. "I admit to being somewhat confused" Peter said as he walked around the small room.

"And you want to know why."

"Now that you mention it..." Peter nodded his head.

Hughes walked out with Peter following. The older man stopped at the window, noting that Neal still hadn't moved.

"I was eleven when my younger brother died from leukemia" Hughes quietly stated.

"Reese, I'm sorry..." Hughes held his hand up to silence Peter.

"Survival rates back then were pretty grim..." He shrugged. "I keep an eye on medical advances and I know what he went through was no small thing." Reese clapped Peter on the back. "Take care of him. I'm sure how he's sleeping is rather uncomfortable." Hughes walked away, leaving a befuddled Peter behind.

* * *

It was nearly 6pm before Peter had a chance to check on Neal. He found his partner still asleep with the blanket thrown to the floor; at some point Neal had taken his clothes off and folded them neatly on the desk. Peter stared at the bandage clearly visible under his sleeveless t-shirt, the one glaring reminder of the transplant. It would still be a few months until the port was removed along with the increased risk of infection.

Peter knelt down and gently shook Neal until the younger man stirred.

Neal stared up at him with unfocused eyes. "What time is it?" he finally asked.

Peter told him. "I'll get Jones to drive you home."

"You're staying?" Neal sat up with a slight groan and rubbed his eyes.

"With all the meetings I got nothing done today. I'm going to spend about an hour on our current case."

"Can I help?" Neal glanced at Peter.

"You feel up to it?"

Neal nodded. "We can order pizza and work on the case."

"Get dressed." Peter stood. "And meet me in my office." The agent smiled. "Most of the floor has cleared out so I see no reason why you have to stay here."

Neal flipped through the current file as he munched on a second piece of pizza, drowning it with half a glass of water.

"Wow, those peppers are hot." Neal wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"Your choice" Peter countered, as he grabbed another piece.

"This guy is good." Neal turned the page.

"Better than you?"

Neal smirked. "Hardly." He continued to read through the pages, until he stopped suddenly. "How long are you going to stare at me?" He glanced at Peter as the agent quickly lowered his gaze.

"I've missed this" Peter admitted with an embarrassed shrug as he stood, and took the file from Neal. "Let's call it a night. Maybe you can sit in on the meeting tomorrow when we discuss this case."

Neal nodded and they quickly cleaned up the garbage and grabbed their coats.

"Me too" Neal quietly whispered as they headed out of the building.

* * *

Peter leaned against the wall and waited, slightly annoyed. It was finally Friday and Elizabeth had a huge dinner at home; a celebration for Neal's first week back and the invitee was over at the new clerk's desk doing his best to get a date. And by the looks of it Neal wasn't getting very far.

Peter smiled. The week had been a huge success and slowly, like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, Neal had blossomed into the person they all remembered, and for the most part wanted back.

By the second day, Neal had ventured into the bullpen with his mask in place and received a nice welcome back from the rest of the office. With the doctor's permission he was allowed to remove the mask in small groups and by the third day he was back monopolizing conversations with his quick wit; annoying Diana to no end though Peter knew she was as happy as the rest of them to have Neal back.

Glancing at this watch, Peter walked over to his partner.

"Hey lothario, if dinner is cold you'll deal with Elizabeth's wrath. Wrap it up and let's go."

Neal threw him a dirty look but a few minutes later he joined Peter near the elevator.

"So?"

Neal ignored him and entered the elevator.

"Struck out, I take it."

Neal looked at Peter and smiled smugly.

"Dinner next weekend at my place" he proclaimed proudly.

Peter shook his head. "Only you" he muttered as they exited together.

"I consider this a good week" Neal said as they neared the parking out. Peter stopped and watched him walk away; yes the Neal swagger was back.

"Yes it was" the agent whispered as he hurried to catch up.


	20. Chapter 20

So this is the end. A big thank you to all who have read and reviewed. Always a chance I will revisit this story to update how Neal is doing.

* * *

Needing a few minutes of solitude away from the party, Neal entered his apartment and opened the balcony door, breathing in the fresh air. It was a cool, clear summer night and the moon stood out above the New York skyline.

June had gone all out; somewhat against Neal's wishes; he had preferred a smaller affair but he gave in and allowed June to throw the party she felt Neal deserved.

Neal understood the milestone and what it stood for. A year post transplant and most of the restrictions had been lifted; but instead of feeling joy, Neal had spent most of the evening in a melancholy mood watching the others enjoy the party.

Peter knew something was wrong but he kept up Neal's pretense even though he spent most of the evening watching Neal.

Neal took a sip of the wine he had been nursing all evening. Another restriction lifted; though he still took a few pills and would continue for the foreseeable future; alcohol was allowed in moderation.

"Neal?"

The ex-con startled. He turned as Peter approached.

"Are you ok?"

Neal nodded without much conviction.

"Are Mozzie and Diana still going at it?"

Peter smiled. "He's trying to convince her that aliens exist."

That elicited a small smile from Neal. It quickly faded.

"Neal, you've been quiet all evening. Tell me what's wrong."

Peter leaned against the wall, mirroring Neal's position. He whistled softly. "Don't think I'll ever tire of this view" he quietly said, glancing sideways at his partner.

"Can you believe it's been a year?"

"Some days, yes" Neal answered with a weary smile.

"And others?"

"It seems like yesterday." Neal pushed away from the wall and headed back inside with Peter following closely.

"Are you sore?" Peter asked, noticing the slight grimace on Neal's face when he closed the balcony door.

"A little" Neal admitted, as he touched his chest. "Feels weird not having the port there."

"I bet the shower was worth it."

Neal smiled. "Yeah." Again the smile faded quickly.

"Do you want to go back down?"

Neal ignored the question.

"Neal, what's wrong?" Peter gently grabbed his partner's shoulders and forced Neal to stand still and face him.

"Would you believe me if I said I didn't know?"

Peter released his grip with a slight nod of his head. "A little overwhelmed at the moment" he suggested.

"Something like that" Neal agreed as he placed his empty glass on the counter. "The party seems...it doesn't seem like enough." Neal paused. "I owe everyone...you so much and the party doesn't..."

"Stop." Peter held his hand up. "The party is for you Neal. Because of what you've gone through. Don't worry about the rest of us."

Neal walked away. "Peter, what you've done." He faced the agent. "I don't know how to thank you..."

"You don't need to thank me..."

"Yes I do." Neal shrugged helplessly. "I can't pay you back."

"Neal, you're right." Peter stepped back slightly. "There's nothing you can do so stop worrying about it."

Neal stared at him; a small smile played on Peter's face.

"Not funny" Neal muttered. "There has to be something and I'll figure it out." Neal sat suddenly. "I can't believe it's over." He glanced the agent's way.

"It's not over...not exactly" Peter countered, as he sat down next to Neal. "You won't be officially cured for another four years and Sloan needs to keep tabs on you...and then there's the long term survival clinic..."

"Peter stop." Neal stood. "If I've learned anything New York is my home. It's where my family is...I'm not going anywhere even when my sentence is over."

"Glad to hear it." Peter jumped up. "Let's go back to the party before they wonder where we are." Peter gently pushed Neal out of the apartment.

* * *

Less than an hour later, Peter knocked lightly on Neal's door before entering. Neal had snuck away shortly after they had rejoined the party but it was late and most of the guests were gone so Peter let him be.

He found his partner at the kitchen table, scribbling away.

"What are you doing?"

Neal glanced over his shoulder. "Trying to figure out what to say to my donor."

Neal put his pen down. "Sorry Peter. I guess I wasn't up for a party tonight. Are you leaving?"He asked, noticing that Peter was wearing his jacket. "Are you ok to drive?"

"I am but Elizabeth won't let me so she's driving." Peter circled the table before producing something from inside his jacket. "Remember this?"

Neal eyed the large envelope until a small smile spread across his face. "I forgot about that" he admitted as Peter handed it to him.

"Did you peek?" Neal scrutinized the envelope, to see if the seal had been tampered with.

"Your secrets are safe Neal. Unless you want to tell me" Peter added wistfully with a smile.

"I don't feel like going back to jail." Neal kept his eyes glued to his hands.

"Neal, I'll pick you up Monday." Peter turned to leave.

"Wait!" Neal jumped up as he tore open the envelope and searched with his hand, finally producing a smaller white envelope. "Here, take this."

Peter took the offering. "Neal, what is this?"

"Just read it later."

Peter's eyes narrowed. "Is this a goodbye letter? Are you going to be here Monday morning?"

Neal chuckled. "Stop worrying. I said I wasn't going anywhere."

Peter shook the envelope.

"Peter, it won't blow up. Go home." The agent took another step towards the door.

"Wait."

Sighing Peter turned just as Neal flung his arms around the agent, pulling a surprised Peter into a bear hug.

"Thank you" Neal whispered as he held on tight. A few minutes later, Neal let go and wordlessly walked away, refusing to meet Peter's gaze.

* * *

Peter couldn't sleep so he carefully got out of bed without waking Elizabeth and headed downstairs, greeting the dog near the steps.

"Go back to sleep" he quietly ordered and then found his jacket where he left it hanging. He took the envelope from the side pocket and entered the kitchen, grabbing a cold beer before sitting down at the table. He clutched the envelope in his hand, almost afraid to open it. Peter knew what it was; Neal had written him a letter in case he didn't survive the transplant; more curious to the agent was why Neal had asked him to read it now.

Peter took another sip of beer and then placed the envelope on the table and stared at it.

"Neal, what did you want to tell me if you died?"

Only one way to find out Peter silently mused as he carefully opened the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

_Peter,_

_If you're reading this I guess I didn't make it. I have no doubt you've seen my long list of crimes...sorry. Just know everything happened before I met you and I don't think I'm the same person. I know I became a better person and you're the reason it happened. _

_I hadn't planned on writing this but there's something I want you to know. When you agreed to go through this with me I felt much better about the transplant. I'm still scared but I know I won't be alone. You don't know much about my childhood but I spent a lot of time on my own. Death doesn't scare me. Dying alone does. Now I know you'll be there beside me if it happens and that eases my fears of the unknown. Whatever happens I know you'll take care of me. And I trust you. I need you to know I trust you and you did what was best for me. Whatever decisions had to be made, you did them with my best interest in mind. _

_Elizabeth once said you're the best thing that ever happened to me and your wife is a smart woman. As partners I didn't think anyone or anything could beat us. I guess something did. I know I fought with everything I could because I don't want to die. _

_I always wondered if we'd be friends when I was a free man. I think we would be. My biggest regret is we'll never find out. I was even going to let you take me to my first Yankee's game. _

_Peter, don't mourn me. You have a great life and a lot of people who need you and depend on you...don't let them down because of me. _

_Please don't forget me. Know that you meant a lot to me, even if I never told you. _

_Your partner in crime_

_Neal_

Peter read it twice before he folded it up and carefully placed it back in the envelope.

He rubbed at his tired eyes as Neal's words ran through his mind. Opening his eyes, Peter ignored the tears that escaped down his cheeks. Despite the ungodly hour, he grabbed his landline and dialed.

_Peter, what's wrong?_ Neal sounded half asleep and immediately Peter felt guilty and he remained silent...he couldn't explain why he had to call.

_Peter! _Now Neal sounded desperate and awake.

"Sorry..." Peter muttered. "I didn't mean to wake you."

_Well, I'm awake. What's wrong?_

"Nothing" Peter managed to whisper.

_And you're calling me at three in the morning to tell me nothing's wrong._ Understandably Neal was angry but Peter couldn't explain the need to hear his voice. To know he was alive.

"Neal, I'm sorry. Go back to sleep."

_Peter, don't hang up. _Several minutes passed before either man spoke.

_Peter, did you read my letter? _It was a rhetorical question and Peter didn't bother to answer.

_I didn't mean to upset you. I just needed you to know..._

"Neal I know."

More silence followed and finally Peter found his voice. "You'll go to a game with me?"

Peter heard an uneasy chuckle in his ear.

_That's what you focused on?_

"It's the only part that didn't make me want to cry..." Peter's voice trailed off with the admission.

_Peter go back to sleep. Don't be late on Monday. _For Peter's sake, Neal hung up. But it was another hour before the agent went back to bed.

* * *

Peter was early and he waited downstairs for Neal to get ready. Finally his partner sauntered downstairs with his hat already on his head. When he got closer Neal flipped the hat; a trick that used to annoy Peter; but for now he was just grateful that Neal was back to his old antics.

"Hey" Peter greeted still self conscious about the phone call.

"Peter." Neal smiled brightly as he descended the last step. "Where's the anklet?" He eyed Peter's empty hands.

"I figured you'd put it on at the office."

"Are Diana and Jones fighting over who gets the honors?"

Peter smiled. "You can put it on twice so they each get a chance."

Neal shook his head as he reached for his jacket. "Got you something." He handed two tickets to Peter. "Figured you bug me until we went so..."

"Neal, these are right behind home plate. How'd you get them?"

"You can find anything on the internet."

"Neal...Thank you." Peter pulled Neal towards him.

"Hey. You're wrinkling the jacket."

"Shut up. You're ruining the moment."

Neal relaxed against Peter. "So, do you think we'll be friends when I'm a free man?" Neal quietly whispered as he untangled himself from Peter's arms.

"Does it matter?" Peter smiled. "Partners are family for life. And I think this past year...do you really have to ask after this past year?"

"No." Neal smiled. "No I don't."

Peter opened the front door and motioned Neal out.

"Welcome back partner" Peter said, as he followed his friend.


End file.
